jane eyre(简·爱)-第35部分

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she　any　deficiency　or　vice　which　sunk　her　below　it。　She　made　
reasonable　progress；　entertained　for　me　a　vivacious；　though　perhaps　
not　very　profound；　affection；　and　by　her　simplicity；　gay　prattle；　
and　efforts　to　please；　inspired　me；　in　return；　with　a　degree　of　
attachment　sufficient　to　make　us　both　content　in　each　other's　society。　
　　　This；　par　parenthese；　will　be　thought　cool　language　by　persons　
who　entertain　solemn　doctrines　about　the　angelic　nature　of　children；　
and　the　duty　of　those　charged　with　their　education　to　conceive　for　
them　an　idolatrous　devotion：　but　I　am　not　writing　to　flatter　
parental　egotism；　to　echo　cant；　or　prop　up　humbug；　I　am　merely　telling　
the　truth。　I　felt　a　conscientious　solicitude　for　Adele's　welfare　and　
progress；　and　a　quiet　liking　for　her　little　self：　just　as　I　
cherished　towards　Mrs。　Fairfax　a　thankfulness　for　her　kindness；　and　
a　pleasure　in　her　society　proportionate　to　the　tranquil　regard　she　had　
for　me；　and　the　moderation　of　her　mind　and　character。　
　　　Anybody　may　blame　me　who　likes；　when　I　add　further；　that；　now　and　
then；　when　I　took　a　walk　by　myself　in　the　grounds；　when　I　went　down　to　
the　gates　and　looked　through　them　along　the　road；　or　when；　while　Adele　
played　with　her　nurse；　and　Mrs。　Fairfax　made　jellies　in　the　storeroom；　
I　climbed　the　three　staircases；　raised　the　trap…door　of　the　attic；　and　
having　reached　the　leads；　looked　out　afar　over　sequestered　field　and　
hill；　and　along　dim　sky…line…　that　then　I　longed　for　a　power　of　vision　
which　might　overpass　that　limit；　which　might　reach　the　busy　world；　
towns；　regions　full　of　life　I　had　heard　of　but　never　seen…　that　then　I　
desired　more　of　practical　experience　than　I　possessed；　more　of　
intercourse　with　my　kind；　of　acquaintance　with　variety　of　character；　
than　was　here　within　my　reach。　I　valued　what　was　good　in　Mrs。　Fairfax；　
and　what　was　good　in　Adele；　but　I　believed　in　the　existence　of　other　
and　more　vivid　kinds　of　goodness；　and　what　I　believed　in　I　wished　to　
behold。　
　　　Who　blames　me？　Many；　no　doubt；　and　I　shall　be　called　
discontented。　I　could　not　help　it：　the　restlessness　was　in　my　
nature；　it　agitated　me　to　pain　sometimes。　Then　my　sole　relief　was　to　
walk　along　the　corridor　of　the　third　storey；　backwards　and　forwards；　
safe　in　the　silence　and　solitude　of　the　spot；　and　allow　my　mind's　
eye　to　dwell　on　whatever　bright　visions　rose　before　it…　and；　
certainly；　they　were　many　and　glowing；　to　let　my　heart　be　heaved　by　
the　exultant　movement；　which；　while　it　swelled　it　in　trouble；　expanded　
it　with　life；　and；　best　of　all；　to　open　my　inward　ear　to　a　tale　that　
was　never　ended…　a　tale　my　imagination　created；　and　narrated　
continuously；　quickened　with　all　of　incident；　life；　fire；　feeling；　
that　I　desired　and　had　not　in　my　actual　existence。　
　　　It　is　in　vain　to　say　human　beings　ought　to　be　satisfied　with　
tranquillity：　they　must　have　action；　and　they　will　make　it　if　they　
cannot　find　it。　Millions　are　condemned　to　a　stiller　doom　than　mine；　
and　millions　are　in　silent　revolt　against　their　lot。　Nobody　knows　
how　many　rebellions　besides　political　rebellions　ferment　in　the　masses　
of　life　which　people　earth。　Women　are　supposed　to　be　very　calm　
generally：　but　women　feel　just　as　men　feel；　they　need　exercise　for　
their　faculties；　and　a　field　for　their　efforts；　as　much　as　their　
brothers　do；　they　suffer　from　too　rigid　a　restraint；　too　absolute　a　
stagnation；　precisely　as　men　would　suffer；　and　it　is　narrow…minded　
in　their　more　privileged　fellow…creatures　to　say　that　they　ought　to　
confine　themselves　to　making　puddings　and　knitting　stockings；　to　
playing　on　the　piano　and　embroidering　bags。　It　is　thoughtless　to　
condemn　them；　or　laugh　at　them；　if　they　seek　to　do　more　or　learn　
more　than　custom　has　pronounced　necessary　for　their　sex。　
　　　When　thus　alone；　I　not　unfrequently　heard　Grace　Poole's　laugh：　
the　same　peal；　the　same　low；　slow　ha！　ha！　which；　when　first　heard；　had　
thrilled　me：　I　heard；　too；　her　eccentric　murmurs；　stranger　than　her　
laugh。　There　were　days　when　she　was　quite　silent；　but　there　were　
others　when　I　could　not　account　for　the　sounds　she　made。　Sometimes　I　
saw　her：　she　would　come　out　of　her　room　with　a　basin；　or　a　plate；　or　a　
tray　in　her　hand；　go　down　to　the　kitchen　and　shortly　return；　generally　
（oh；　romantic　reader；　forgive　me　for　telling　the　plain　truth！）　bearing　
a　pot　of　porter。　Her　appearance　always　acted　as　a　damper　to　the　
curiosity　raised　by　her　oral　oddities：　hard…featured　and　staid；　she　
had　no　point　to　which　interest　could　attach。　I　made　some　attempts　to　
draw　her　into　conversation；　but　she　seemed　a　person　of　few　words：　a　
monosyllabic　reply　usually　cut　short　every　effort　of　that　sort。　
　　　The　other　members　of　the　household；　viz。；　John　and　his　wife；　Leah　
the　housemaid；　and　Sophie　the　French　nurse；　were　decent　people；　but　in　
no　respect　remarkable；　with　Sophie　I　used　to　talk　French；　and　
sometimes　I　asked　her　questions　about　her　native　country；　but　she　
was　not　of　a　descriptive　or　narrative　turn；　and　generally　gave　such　
vapid　and　confused　answers　as　were　calculated　rather　to　check　than　
encourage　inquiry。　
　　　October；　November；　December　passed　away。　One　afternoon　in　
January；　Mrs。　Fairfax　had　begged　a　holiday　for　Adele；　because　she　
had　a　cold；　and；　as　Adele　seconded　the　request　with　an　ardour　that　
reminded　me　how　precious　occasional　holidays　had　been　to　me　in　my　
own　childhood；　I　accorded　it；　deeming　that　I　did　well　in　showing　
pliability　on　the　point。　It　was　a　fine；　calm　day；　though　very　cold；　
I　was　tired　of　sitting　still　in　the　library　through　a　whole　long　
morning：　Mrs。　Fairfax　had　just　written　a　letter　which　was　waiting　to　
be　posted；　so　I　put　on　my　bonnet　and　cloak　and　volunteered　to　carry　it　
to　Hay；　the　distance；　two　miles；　would　be　a　pleasant　winter　
afternoon　walk。　Having　seen　Adele　comfortably　seated　in　her　little　
chair　by　Mrs。　Fairfax's　parlour　fireside；　and　given　her　her　best　wax　
doll　（which　I　usually　kept　enveloped　in　silver　paper　in　a　drawer）　to　
play　with；　and　a　story…book　for　a　change　of　amusement；　and　having　
replied　to　her　'Revenez　bientot；　ma　bonne　amie；　ma　chere　Mdlle。　
Jeannette；'　with　a　kiss　I　set　out。　
　　　The　ground　was　hard；　the　air　was　still；　my　road　was　lonely；　I　
walked　fast　till　I　got　warm；　and　then　I　walked　slowly　to　enjoy　and　
analyse　the　species　of　pleasure　brooding　for　me　in　the　hour　and　
situation。　It　was　three　o'clock；　the　church　bell　tolled　as　I　passed　
under　the　belfry：　the　charm　of　the　hour　lay　in　its　approaching　
dimness；　in　the　low…gliding　and　pale…beaming　sun。　I　was　a　mile　from　
Thornfield；　in　a　lane　noted　for　wild　roses　in　summer；　for　nuts　and　
blackberries　in　autumn；　and　even　now　possessing　a　few　coral　
treasures　in　hips　and　haws；　but　whose　best　winter　delight　lay　in　its　
utter　solitude　and　leafless　repose。　If　a　breath　of　air　stirred；　it　
made　no　sound　here；　for　there　was　not　a　holly；　not　an　evergreen　to　
rustle；　and　the　stripped　hawthorn　and　hazel　bushes　were　as　still　as　
the　white；　worn　stones　which　causewayed　the　middle　of　the　path。　Far　
and　wide；　on　each　side；　there　were　only　fields；　where　no　cattle　now　
browsed；　and　the　little　brown　birds；　which　stirred　occasionally　in　t