书城公版TheTenant of Wildfell Hall
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第3章 CHAPTER 1(3)

`Oh, my dear Gilbert, what nonsense you talk!--I know you don't mean it; it's quite out of the question,' said my mother, getting up, and bustling out of the room, under pretence of household business, in order to escape the contradiction that was trembling on my tongue.

After that, Rose favoured me with further particulars respecting Mrs Graham. Her appearance, manners, and dress, and the very furniture of the room she inhabited, were all set before me, with rather more clearness and precision than I cared to see them; but, as I was not a very attentive listener, I could not repeat the description if I would.

The next day was Saturday; and, on Sunday, everybody wondered whether or not the fair unknown would profit by the vicar's remonstrance, and come to church. I confess, I looked with some interest myself towards the old family pew, appertaining to Wildfell Hall, where the faded crimson cushions and lining had been unpressed and unrenewed so many years, and the grim escutcheons, with their lugubrious borders of rusty black cloth, frowned so sternly from the wall above.

And there I beheld a tall, lady-like figure, clad in black. Her face was towards me, and there was something in it, which, once seen, invited me to look again. Her hair was raven black, and disposed in long glossy ringlets, a style of coiffure rather unusual in those days, but always graceful and becoming; her complexion was clear and pale, her eyes I could not see, for being bent upon, her prayer book they were concealed by their drooping lids and long black lashes, but the brows above were expressive and well defined, the forehead was lofty and intellectual, the nose, a perfect aquiline, and the features in general, unexceptionable--only there was a slight hollowness about the cheeks and eyes, and the lips, though finely formed, were a little too thin, a little too firmly compressed, and had something about them that betokened, I thought, no very soft or amiable temper; and I said in my heart--`I would rather admire you from this distance, fair lady, than be the partner of your home.'

Just then, she happened to raise her eyes, and they met mine;

I dl~d not choose to withdraw my gaze, and she turned again to her book, but with a momentary, indefinable expression of quiet scorn, that was inexpressibly provoking to me.

`She thinks me an impudent puppy,' thought I. `Humph!--she hall change her mind before long, if I think it worthwhile.'

But then, it flashed upon me that these were very improper thoughts for a place of worship, and that my behaviour, on the present occasion, was anything but what it ought to be. Previous, however, to directing my mind to the service, I glanced round the church to see if anyone had been observing me;--but no,--all who were not attending to their prayer-books, were attending to he strange lady,--my good mother and sister among the rest, and drs Wilson and her daughter; and even Eliza Millward was slyly lancing from the corners of her eyes towards the object of general attraction.

Then, she glanced at me, simpered a little, and blushed, modestly looked at her prayer-book, and endeavoured to compose her features.

Here I was transgressing again; and this time I was made sensible of it by a sudden dig in the ribs, from the elbow of my pert other. For the present, I could only resent the insult by pressing my foot upon his toes, deferring further vengeance till we got out church.

Now, Halford, before I close this letter, I'll tell you who Eliza Millward was; she was the vicar's younger daughter, and a very engaging little creature, for whom I felt no small degree of partiality;--and she knew it, though I had never come to any direct planation, and had no definite intention of so doing, for my mother, who maintained there was no one good enough for me, within twenty miles round, could not bear the thought of my marrying that insignificant little thing, who, in addition to her numerous other disqualifications, had not twenty pounds to call her own. Eliza's figure was at once slight and plump, her face small, and nearly as round as my sister's,--complexion, something similar to hers, but more delicate and less decidedly blooming,--nose, retroussé,--features, generally irregular;--and, altogether, she was rather charming than pretty.

But her eyes--I must not forget those remarkable features, for therein her chief attraction lay--in outward aspect at least;--they were long and narrow in shape, the irids black, or very dark brown, the expression various, and ever changing, but always either preternaturally--I had almost said diabolically --wicked, or irresistibly bewitching--often both. Her voice was gentle and childish, her tread light and soft as that of a cat;--but her manners more frequently resembled those of a pretty, playful kitten, that is now pert and roguish, now timid and demure, according to its own sweet will.