简爱(英文版)-第52部分

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I　have　told　you；　reader；　that　I　had　learnt　to　love　Mr。　Rochester：　I　could　not　unlove　him　now；　merely　because　I　found　that　he　had　ceased　to　notice　me—because　I　might　pass　hours　in　his　presence；　and　he　would　never　once　turn　his　eyes　in　my　direction—because　I　saw　all　his　attentions　appropriated　by　a　great　lady；　who　scorned　to　touch　me　with　the　hem　of　her　robes　as　she　passed；　who；　if　ever　her　dark　and　imperious　eye　fell　on　me　by　chance；　would　withdraw　it　instantly　as　from　an　object　too　mean　to　merit　observation。　I　could　not　unlove　him；　because　I　felt　sure　he　would　soon　marry　this　very　lady—because　I　read　daily　in　her　a　proud　security　in　his　intentions　respecting　her—because　I　witnessed　hourly　in　him　a　style　of　courtship　which；　if　careless　and　choosing　rather　to　be　sought　than　to　seek；　was　yet；　in　its　very　carelessness；　captivating；　and　in　its　very　pride；　irresistible。
There　was　nothing　to　cool　or　banish　love　in　these　circumstances；　though　much　to　create　despair。　Much　too；　you　will　think；　reader；　to　engender　jealousy：　if　a　woman；　in　my　position；　could　presume　to　be　jealous　of　a　woman　in　Miss　Ingram’s。　But　I　was　not　jealous：　or　very　rarely；—the　nature　of　the　pain　I　suffered　could　not　be　explained　by　that　word。　Miss　Ingram　was　a　mark　beneath　jealousy：　she　was　too　inferior　to　excite　the　feeling。　Pardon　the　seeming　paradox；　I　mean　what　I　say。　She　was　very　showy；　but　she　was　not　genuine：　she　had　a　fine　person；　many　brilliant　attainments；　but　her　mind　was　poor；　her　heart　barren　by　nature：　nothing　bloomed　spontaneously　on　that　soil；　no　unforced　natural　fruit　delighted　by　its　freshness。　She　was　not　good；　she　was　not　original：　she　used　to　repeat　sounding　phrases　from　books：　she　never　offered；　nor　had；　an　opinion　of　her　own。　She　advocated　a　high　tone　of　sentiment；　but　she　did　not　know　the　sensations　of　sympathy　and　pity；　tenderness　and　truth　were　not　in　her。　Too　often　she　betrayed　this；　by　the　undue　vent　she　gave　to　a　spiteful　antipathy　she　had　conceived　against　little　Adèle：　pushing　her　away　with　some　contumelious　epithet　if　she　happened　to　approach　her；　sometimes　ordering　her　from　the　room；　and　always　treating　her　with　coldness　and　acrimony。　Other　eyes　besides　mine　watched　these　manifestations　of　character—watched　them　closely；　keenly；　shrewdly。　Yes；　the　future　bridegroom；　Mr。　Rochester　himself；　exercised　over　his　intended　a　ceaseless　surveillance；　and　it　was　from　this　sagacity—this　guardedness　of　his—this　perfect；　clear　consciousness　of　his　fair　one’s　defects—　this　obvious　absence　of　passion　in　his　sentiments　towards　her；　that　my　ever…torturing　pain　arose。
I　saw　he　was　going　to　marry　her；　for　family；　perhaps　political　reasons；　because　her　rank　and　connections　suited　him；　I　felt　he　had　not　given　her　his　love；　and　that　her　qualifications　were　ill　adapted　to　win　from　him　that　treasure。　This　was　the　point—this　was　where　the　nerve　was　touched　and　teased—this　was　where　the　fever　was　sustained　and　fed：　she　could　not　charm　him。
If　she　had　managed　the　victory　at　once；　and　he　had　yielded　and　sincerely　laid　his　heart　at　her　feet；　I　should　have　covered　my　face；　turned　to　the　wall；　and　（figuratively）　have　died　to　them。　If　Miss　Ingram　had　been　a　good　and　noble　woman；　endowed　with　force；　fervour；　kindness；　sense；　I　should　have　had　one　vital　struggle　with　two　tigers—jealousy　and　despair：　then；　my　heart　torn　out　and　devoured；　I　should　have　admired　her—acknowledged　her　excellence；　and　been　quiet　for　the　rest　of　my　days：　and　the　more　absolute　her　superiority；　the　deeper　would　have　been　my　admiration—the　more　truly　tranquil　my　quiescence。　But　as　matters　really　stood；　to　watch　Miss　Ingram’s　efforts　at　fascinating　Mr。　Rochester；　to　witness　their　repeated　failure—herself　unconscious　that　they　did　fail；　vainly　fancying　that　each　shaft　launched　hit　the　mark；　and　infatuatedly　pluming　herself　on　success；　when　her　pride　and　self…placency　repelled　further　and　further　what　she　wished　to　allure—to　witness　this；　was　to　be　at　once　under　ceaseless　excitation　and　ruthless　restraint。
Because；　when　she　failed；　I　saw　how　she　might　have　succeeded。　Arrows　that　continually　glanced　off　from　Mr。　Rochester’s　breast　and　fell　harmless　at　his　feet；　might；　I　knew；　if　shot　by　a　surer　hand；　have　quivered　keen　in　his　proud　heart—have　called　love　into　his　stern　eye；　and　softness　into　his　sardonic　face；　or；　better　still；　without　ight　have　been　won。
“Why　can　she　not　influence　him　more；　when　she　is　privileged　to　draw　so　near　to　him？”　I　asked　myself。　“Surely　she　cannot　truly　like　him；　or　not　like　him　with　true　affection！　If　she　did；　she　need　not　coin　her　smiles　so　lavishly；　flash　her　glances　so　unremittingly；　manufacture　airs　so　elaborate；　graces　so　multitudinous。　It　seems　to　me　that　she　might；　by　merely　sitting　quietly　at　his　side；　saying　little　and　looking　less；　get　nigher　his　heart。　I　have　seen　in　his　face　a　far　different　expression　from　that　which　hardens　it　now　while　she　is　so　vivaciously　accosting　him；　but　then　it　came　of　itself：　it　was　not　elicited　by　meretricious　arts　and　calculated　manoeuvres；　and　one　had　but　to　accept　it—to　answer　what　he　asked　without　pretension；　to　address　him　when　needful　without　grimace—and　it　increased　and　grew　kinder　and　more　genial；　and　warmed　one　like　a　fostering　sunbeam。　How　will　she　manage　to　please　him　when　they　are　married？　I　do　not　think　she　will　manage　it；　and　yet　it　might　be　managed；　and　his　wife　might；　I　verily　believe；　be　the　very　happiest　woman　the　sun　shines　on。”
I　have　not　yet　said　anything　condemnatory　of　Mr。　Rochester’s　project　of　marrying　for　interest　and　connections。　It　surprised　me　when　I　first　discovered　that　such　was　his　intention：　I　had　thought　him　a　man　unlikely　to　be　influenced　by　motives　so　monplace　in　his　choice　of　a　wife；　but　the　longer　I　considered　the　position；　education；　&c。；　of　the　parties；　the　less　I　felt　justified　in　judging　and　blaming　either　him　or　Miss　Ingram　for　acting　in　conformity　to　ideas　and　principles　instilled　into　them；　doubtless；　from　their　childhood。　All　their　class　held　these　principles：　I　supposed；　then；　they　had　reasons　for　holding　them　such　as　I　could　not　fathom。　It　seemed　to　me　that；　were　I　a　gentleman　like　him；　I　would　take　to　my　bosom　only　such　a　wife　as　I　could　love；　but　the　very　obviousness　of　the　advantages　to　the　husband’s　own　happiness　offered　by　this　plan　convinced　me　that　there　must　be　arguments　against　its　general　adoption　of　which　I　was　quite　ignorant：　otherwise　I　felt　sure　all　the　world　would　act　as　I　wished　to　act。
But　in　other　points；　as　well　as　this；　I　was　growing　very　lenient　to　my　master：　I　was　forgetting　all　his　faults；　for　which　I　had　once　kept　a　sharp　look…out。　It　had　formerly　been　my　endeavour　to　study　all　sides　of　his　character：　to　take　the　bad　with　the　good；　and　from　the　just　weighing　of　both；　to　form　an　equitable　judgment。　Now　I　saw　no　bad。　The　sarcasm　that　had　repelled；　the　harshness　that　had　startled　me　once；　were　only　like　keen　condiments　in　a　choice　dish：　their　presence　was　pungent；　but　their　absence　would　be　felt　as　paratively　insipid。　And　as　for　the　vague　something—was　it　a　sinister　or　a　sorrowful；　a　designing　or　a　desponding　expression？—　that　opened　upon　a　careful　observer；　now　and　then；　in　his　eye；　and　closed　again　before　one　could　fathom　the　strange　depth　partially　disclosed；　that　something　which　used　to　make　me　fear　and　shrink；　as　if　I　had　been　wandering　amongst　volcanic…looking　hills；　and　had　suddenly　felt　the　ground　quiver　and　seen　it　gape：　that　something；　I；　at　intervals；　beheld　still；　and　with　throbbing　heart；　but　not　with　palsied　nerves。　Instead　of　wishing　to　shun；　I　longed　only　to　dare—to　divine　it；　and　I　thought　Miss　Ingram　happy；　because　one　day　she　might　look　into　the　abyss　at　her　leisure；　explore　its　secrets　and　analyse　their　nature。
Meantime；　while　I　thought　only　of　my　master　and　his　future　bride—　saw　only　them；　heard　only　their　discourse；　and　considered　only　their　movements　of　importance—the　rest　of　the　party　were　occupied　with　their　own　separate　interests　and　pleasures。　The　Ladies　Lynn　and　Ingram　continued　to　consort　in　solemn　conferences；　where　they　nodded　their　two　turbans　at　each　other；　and　held　up　their　four　hands　in　confronting　gestures　of　surprise；　or　mystery；　or　horror；　according　to　the　theme　on　which　their　gossip　ran；　like