友情提示:如果本网页打开太慢或显示不完整,请尝试鼠标右键“刷新”本网页!
读书室 返回本书目录 加入书签 我的书架 我的书签 TXT全本下载 『收藏到我的浏览器』

the heir of redclyffe-第62部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完,想下次继续接着阅读,可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能!


only occasion of the suspicions; which he could think of; was his 

request for the sum of money; and this he could not mention to Mr。 

Wellwood; nor was he inclined to make confidants of his other 

companions; though pleasant; right…minded youths。



He had only announced that he had had a letter which had grieved him 

considerably; but of which he could not mention the contents; and as 

Harry Graham; who knew something of the Broadstone neighbourhood; had 

picked up a report that Sir Guy Morville was to marry Lady Eveleen de 

Courcy; there was an idea among the party that there was some trouble 

in the way of his attachment。  He had once before been made; by some 

joke; to colour and look conscious; and now this protected him from 

inconvenient questions; and accounted for his depression。  He was like 

what he had been on first coming to Hollywellgrave and silent; 

falling into reveries when others were talking; and much given to long; 

lonely wanderings。  Accustomed as he had been in boyhood to a solitary 

life in beautiful scenery; there was something in a fine landscape that 

was to him like a friend and companion; and he sometimes felt that it 

would have been worse if he had been in a dull; uniform country; 

instead of among mountain peaks and broad wooded valleys。  Working 

hard; too; helped him not a little; and conic sections served him 

almost as well as they served Laura。



A more real help was the neighbourhood of Stylehurst。  On the first 

Sunday after receiving Mr。 Edmonstone's letter; he went to church 

there; instead of with the others; to St。 Mildred's。  They thought it 

was for the sake of the solitary walk; but he had other reasons for the 

preference。  In the first place it was a Communion Sunday; and in the 

next; he could feel more kindly towards Philip there; and he knew he 

needed all that could strengthen such a disposition。



Many a question did he ask himself; to certify whether he wilfully 

entertained malice or hatred; or any uncharitableness。  It was a long; 

difficult examination; but at its close; he felt convinced that; if 

such passions knocked at the door of his heart; it was not at his own 

summons; and that he drove them away without listening to them。  And 

surely he might approach to gain the best aid in that battle; 

especially as he was certain of his strong and deep repentance for his 

fit of passion; and longing earnestly for the pledge of forgiveness。



The pardon and peace he sought came to him; and in such sort that the 

comfort of that day; when fresh from the first shock; and waiting in 

suspense for some new blow; was such as never to be forgotten。  They 

linked themselves with the grave shade of the clustered gray columns; 

and the angel heads on roof of that old church; with the long grass and 

tall yellow mullens among its churchyard graves; and with the tints of 

the elm…trees that closed it in; their leaves in masses either of green 

or yellow; and opening here and there to show the purple hills beyond。



He wandered in the churchyard between the services。  All enmity to 

Philip was absent now; and he felt as if it would hardly return when he 

stood by the graves of the Archdeacon and of the two Frances Morvilles; 

and thought what that spot was to his cousin。  There were a few flowers 

planted round Mrs。 Morville's grave; but they showed that they had long 

been neglected; and no such signs of care marked her daughter Fanny's。  

And when Guy further thought of Mrs。 Henley; and recollected how Philip 

had sacrificed all his cherished prospects and hopes of distinction; 

and embraced an irksome profession; for the sake of these two sisters; 

he did not find it difficult to excuse the sternness; severity; and 

distrust which were an evidence how acutely a warm heart had suffered。



Though he suffered cruelly from being cut off from Amy; yet his 

reverence for her helped him to submit。  He had always felt as if she 

was too far above him; and though he had; beyond his hopes; been 

allowed to aspire to the thought of her; it was on trial; and his 

failure; his return to his old evil passions; had sunk him beneath her。  

He shuddered to think of her being united to anything so unlike 

herself; and which might cause her so much misery; it was wretchedness 

to think that even now she might he suffering for him; and yet not for 

worlds would he have lost the belief that she was so feeling; or the 

remembrance of the looks which had shone on him so sweetly and timidly 

as she sat at her mother's feet; though that remembrance was only 

another form of misery。  But Amy would be tranquil; pure and good; 

whatever became of him; and he should always be able to think of her; 

looking like one of those peaceful spirits; with bending head; folded 

hands; and a star on its brow; in the 〃Paradiso〃 of Flaxman。  Her 

serenity would be untouched; and though she might be lost to him; he 

could still be content while he could look up at it through his turbid 

life。  Better she were lost to him than that her peace should be 

injured。



He still; of course; earnestly longed to prove his innocence; though 

his hopes lessened; for as long as the evidence was withheld; he had no 

chance。  After writing as strongly as he could; he could do no more; 

except watch for something that might unravel the mystery; and 

Charles's warm sympathy and readiness to assist him were a great 

comfort。



He had not seen his uncle again; perhaps Sebastian was ashamed to meet 

him after their last encounter; and was still absent on his engagement; 

but the wife and child were still at St。 Mildred's; and one afternoon; 

when Guy had rather unwillingly gone thither with Mr。 Wellwood; he saw 

Mrs。 Dixon sitting on one of the benches which were placed on the paths 

cut out on the side of the hill; looking very smart and smiling; among 

several persons of her own class。



To be ashamed to recognise her was a weakness beneath him; he spoke to 

her; and was leaving her; pluming herself on his notice; when he saw 

little Marianne's blue eyes fixed wistfully upon him; and held out his 

hand to her。  She ran up to him joyfully; and he led her a few steps 

from her mother's party。  'Well; little one; how are you?  I have your 

piece of spar quite safe。  Have you said how d'ye do to Bustle?'



'Bustle!  Bustle!' called the soft voice but it needed a whistle from 

his master to bring him to be caressed by the little girl。



'Have you been taking any more pleasant walks?'



'Oh yes。  We have been all round these pretty paths。  And I should like 

to go to the top of this great high hill; and see all round; but mamma 

says she has got a bone in her leg; and cannot go。'



'Do you think mamma would give you leave to go up with me?  Should you 

like it?'



She coloured all over; too happy even to thank him。



'Then;' said Guy to his tutor; 'I will meet you here when you have done 

your business in the town; in an hour or so。  Poor little thing; she 

has not many pleasures。'



Mrs。 Dixon made no difficulty; and was so profuse in thanks that Guy 

got out of her way as fast as he could; and was soon on the soft thymy 

grass of the hill…side; the little girl frisking about him in great 

delight; playing with Bustle; and chattering merrily。



Little Marianne was a delicate child; and her frolic did not last long。  

As the ascent became steeper; her breath grew shorter; and she toiled 

on in a resolute uncomplaining manner after his long; vigorous steps; 

till he looked round; and seeing her panting far behind; turned to help 

her; lead her; and carry her; till the top was achieved; and the little 

girl stood on the topmost stone; gazing round at the broad sunny 

landscape; with the soft green meadows; the harvest fields; the woods 

in their gorgeous autumn raiment; and the moorland on the other side; 

with its other peaks and cairns; brown with withered bracken; and 

shadowed in moving patches by the floating clouds。  The exhilarating 

wind brought a colour into her pale cheeks; and her flossy curls were 

blowing over her face。



He watched her in silence; pleased and curious to observe how beautiful 

a scene struck the childish eye of the little Londoner。  The first 

thing she said; after three or four minutes' contemplationa long time 

for such a childwas; 'Oh! I never saw anything so pretty!' then 

presently after; 'Oh! I wish little brother Felix was here!'



'This is a pleasant place to think about your little brother;' said 

Guy; kindly; and she looked up in his face; and exclaimed; 'Oh! do you 

know about Felix?'



'You shall tell me' said Guy。  'Here; sit on my knee; and rest after 

your scramble。'



'Mamma never lets me talk of Felix; because it makes her cry;' said 

Marianne; but I wish it sometimes。'



Her little heart was soon open。  It appeared that Felix was the last 

who had died; the nearest in age to 
返回目录 上一页 下一页 回到顶部 1 1
快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
温馨提示: 温看小说的同时发表评论,说出自己的看法和其它小伙伴们分享也不错哦!发表书评还可以获得积分和经验奖励,认真写原创书评 被采纳为精评可以获得大量金币、积分和经验奖励哦!