LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

asked for.”

      “I suppose, now,” said Miss Ingram, curling her lip sarcastically, “we shall have an abstract of the memoirs of all the governesses extant: in order to avert such a visitation, I again move the introduction of a new topic. Mr. Rochester, do you second my motion?”

      “Madam, I support you on this point, as on every other.”

      “Then on me be the onus of bringing it forward. Signior Eduardo, are you in voice tonight?”

      “Donna Bianca, if you command it, I will be.”

      “Then, signior, I lay on you my sovereign behest to furbish up your lungs and other vocal organs, as they will be wanted on my royal service.”

      “Who would not be the Rizzio of so divine a Mary?”

      “A fig for Rizzio!” cried she, tossing her head with all its curls, as she moved to the piano. “It is my opinion the fiddler David must have been an insipid sort of fellow; I like black Bothwell better: to my mind a man is nothing without a spice of the devil in him; and history may say what it will of James Hepburn, but I have a notion, he was just the sort of wild, fierce, bandit hero whom I could have consented to gift with my hand.”

      “Gentlemen, you hear! Now which of you most resembles Bothwell?” cried Mr. Rochester.

      “I should say the preference lies with you,” responded Colonel Dent.

      “On my honour, I am much obliged to you,” was the reply.

      Miss Ingram, who had now seated herself with proud grace at the piano, spreading out her snowy robes in queenly amplitude, commenced a brilliant prelude; talking meantime. She appeared to be on her high horse tonight; both her words and her air seemed intended to excite not only the admiration, but the amazement of her auditors: she was evidently bent on striking them as something very dashing and daring indeed.

      “Oh, I am so sick of the young men of the present day!” exclaimed she, rattling away at the instrument. “Poor, puny things, not fit to stir a step beyond papa’s park gates: nor to go even so far without mama’s permission and guardianship! Creatures so absorbed in care about their pretty faces, and their white hands, and their small feet; as if a man had anything to do with beauty! As if loveliness were not the special prerogative of woman — her legitimate appanage and heritage! I grant an ugly woman is a blot on the fair face of creation; but as to the gentlemen, let them be solicitous to possess only strength and valour: let their motto be: — Hunt, shoot, and fight: the rest is not worth a fillip. Such should be my device, were I a man.”

      “Whenever I marry,” she continued after a pause which none interrupted, “I am resolved my husband shall not be a rival, but a foil to me. I will suffer no competitor near the throne; I shall exact an undivided homage: his devotions shall not be shared between me and the shape he sees in his mirror. Mr. Rochester, now sing, and I will play for you.”

      “I am all obedience,” was the response.

      “Here then is a Corsair-song. Know that I doat on Corsairs; and for that reason, sing it con spirito.”

      “Commands from Miss Ingram’s lips would put spirit into a mug of milk and water.”

      “Take care, then: if you don’t please me, I will shame you by showing how such things should be done.”

      “That is offering a premium on incapacity: I shall now endeavour to fail.”

      “Gardez-vous en bien! If you err wilfully, I shall devise a proportionate punishment.”

      “Miss Ingram ought to be clement, for she has it in her power to inflict a chastisement beyond mortal endurance.”

      “Ha! explain!” commanded the lady.

      “Pardon me, madam: no need of explanation; your own fine sense must inform you that one of your frowns would be a sufficient substitute for capital punishment.”

      “Sing!” said she, and again touching the piano, she commenced an accompaniment in spirited style.

      “Now is my time to slip away,” thought I: but the tones that then severed the air arrested me. Mrs. Fairfax had said Mr. Rochester possessed a fine voice: he did — a mellow, powerful bass, into which he threw his own feeling, his own force; finding a way through the ear to the heart, and there waking sensation strangely. I waited till the last deep and full vibration had expired — till the tide of talk, checked an instant, had resumed its flow; I then quitted my sheltered corner and made my exit by the side-door, which was fortunately near. Thence a narrow passage led into the hall: in crossing it, I perceived my sandal was loose; I stopped to tie it, kneeling down for that purpose on the mat at the foot of the staircase. I heard the dining-room door unclose; a gentleman came out; rising hastily, I stood face to face with him: it was Mr. Rochester.

      “How do you do?” he asked.

      “I am very well, sir.”

      “Why did you not come and speak to me in the room?”

      I thought I might have retorted the question on him who put it: but I would not take that freedom. I answered —

      “I did not wish to disturb you, as you seemed engaged, sir.”

      “What have you been doing during my absence?”

      “Nothing particular; teaching Adèle as usual.”

      “And getting a good deal paler than you were — as I saw at first sight. What is the matter?”

      “Nothing at all, sir.”

      “Did you take any cold that night you half drowned me?”

      “Not the least.”

      “Return to the drawing-room: you are deserting too early.”

      “I am tired, sir.”

      He looked at me for a minute.

      “And a little depressed,” he said. “What about? Tell me.”

      “Nothing — nothing, sir. I am not depressed.”

      “But I affirm that you are: so much depressed that a few more words would bring tears to your eyes — indeed, they are there now, shining and swimming; and a bead has slipped from the lash and fallen on to the flag. If I had time, and was not in mortal dread of some prating prig of a servant passing, I would know what all this means. Well, tonight I excuse you; but understand that so long as my visitors stay, I expect you to appear in the drawing-room every evening; it is my wish; don’t neglect it. Now go, and send Sophie for Adèle. Goodnight, my — ” He stopped, bit his lip, and abruptly left me.

      CHAPTER XVIII

      Merry days were these at Thornfield Hall; and busy days too: how different from the first three months of stillness, monotony, and solitude I had passed beneath its roof! All sad feelings seemed now driven from the house, all gloomy associations forgotten: there was life everywhere, movement all day long. You could not now traverse the gallery, once so hushed, nor enter the front chambers, once so tenantless, without encountering a smart lady’s-maid or a dandy valet.

      The kitchen, the butler’s pantry, the servants’ hall, the entrance hall, were equally alive; and the saloons were only left void and still when the blue sky and halcyon sunshine of the genial spring weather called their occupants out into the grounds. Even when that weather was broken, and continuous rain set in for some days, no damp seemed cast over enjoyment: indoor amusements only became more lively and varied, in consequence of the stop put to outdoor gaiety.

      I wondered what they were going to do the first evening a change of entertainment was proposed: they spoke of “playing charades,” but in my ignorance I did not understand the term. The servants were called in, the dining-room tables wheeled away, the lights otherwise disposed, the chairs placed in a semicircle opposite the arch. While Mr. Rochester and the other gentlemen directed these alterations, the ladies were running

Скачать книгу