david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第93部分

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don’t　know　what　she　was—anything　that　no　one　ever　saw；　and　
everything　that　everybody　ever　wanted。　I　was　swallowed　up　in　an　
abyss　of　love　in　an　instant。　There　was　no　pausing　on　the　brink；　no　
looking　down；　or　looking　back；　I　was　gone；　headlong；　before　I　had　
sense　to　say　a　word　to　her。　

‘I；’　observed　a　well…remembered　voice；　when　I　had　bowed　and　
murmured　something；　‘have　seen　Mr。　Copperfield　before。’　

The　speaker　was　not　Dora。　No；　the　confidential　friend；　Miss　
Murdstone！　

I　don’t　think　I　was　much　astonished。　To　the　best　of　my　
judgement；　no　capacity　of　astonishment　was　left　in　me。　There　was　
nothing　worth　mentioning　in　the　material　world；　but　Dora　
Spenlow；　to　be　astonished　about。　I　said；　‘How　do　you　do；　Miss　
Murdstone？　I　hope　you　are　well。’　She　answered；　‘Very　well。’　I　said；　
‘How　is　Mr。　Murdstone？’　She　replied；　‘My　brother　is　robust；　I　am　
obliged　to　you。’　

Mr。　Spenlow；　who；　I　suppose；　had　been　surprised　to　see　us　
recognize　each　other；　then　put　in　his　word。　

‘I　am　glad　to　find；’　he　said；　‘Copperfield；　that　you　and　Miss　
Murdstone　are　already　acquainted。’　

‘Mr。　Copperfield　and　myself；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　with　severe　
composure；　‘are　connexions。　We　were　once　slightly　acquainted。　It　
was　in　his　childish　days。　Circumstances　have　separated　us　since。　I　
should　not　have　known　him。’　

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David　Copperfield　

I　replied　that　I　should　have　known　her；　anywhere。　Which　was　
true　enough。　

‘Miss　Murdstone　has　had　the　goodness；’　said　Mr。　Spenlow　to　
me；　‘to　accept　the　office—if　I　may　so　describe　it—of　my　daughter　
Dora’s　confidential　friend。　My　daughter　Dora　having；　unhappily；　
no　mother；　Miss　Murdstone　is　obliging　enough　to　become　her　
companion　and　protector。’　

A　passing　thought　occurred　to　me　that　Miss　Murdstone；　like　the　
pocket　instrument　called　a　life…preserver；　was　not　so　much　
designed　for　purposes　of　protection　as　of　assault。　But　as　I　had　
none　but　passing　thoughts　for　any　subject　save　Dora；　I　glanced　at　
her；　directly　afterwards；　and　was　thinking　that　I　saw；　in　her　
prettily　pettish　manner；　that　she　was　not　very　much　inclined　to　be　
particularly　confidential　to　her　companion　and　protector；　when　a　
bell　rang；　which　Mr。　Spenlow　said　was　the　first　dinner…bell；　and　so　
carried　me　off　to　dress。　

The　idea　of　dressing　one’s　self；　or　doing　anything　in　the　way　of　
action；　in　that　state　of　love；　was　a　little　too　ridiculous。　I　could　only　
sit　down　before　my　fire；　biting　the　key　of　my　carpet…bag；　and　think　
of　the　captivating；　girlish；　bright…eyed　lovely　Dora。　What　a　form　
she　had；　what　a　face　she　had；　what　a　graceful；　variable；　enchanting　
manner！　

The　bell　rang　again　so　soon　that　I　made　a　mere　scramble　of　my　
dressing；　instead　of　the　careful　operation　I　could　have　wished　
under　the　circumstances；　and　went　downstairs。　There　was　some　
company。　Dora　was　talking　to　an　old　gentleman　with　a　grey　head。　
Grey　as　he　was—and　a　great…grandfather　into　the　bargain；　for　he　
said　so—I　was　madly　jealous　of　him。　

What　a　state　of　mind　I　was　in！　I　was　jealous　of　everybody。　I　

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David　Copperfield　

couldn’t　bear　the　idea　of　anybody　knowing　Mr。　Spenlow　better　
than　I　did。　It　was　torturing　to　me　to　hear　them　talk　of　occurrences　
in　which　I　had　had　no　share。　When　a　most　amiable　person；　with　a　
highly　polished　bald　head；　asked　me　across　the　dinner　table；　if　that　
were　the　first　occasion　of　my　seeing　the　grounds；　I　could　have　
done　anything　to　him　that　was　savage　and　revengeful。　

I　don’t　remember　who　was　there；　except　Dora。　I　have　not　the　
least　idea　what　we　had　for　dinner；　besides　Dora。　My　impression　is；　
that　I　dined　off　Dora；　entirely；　and　sent　away　half…a…dozen　plates　
untouched。　I　sat　next　to　her。　I　talked　to　her。　She　had　the　most　
delightful　little　voice；　the　gayest　little　laugh；　the　pleasantest　and　
most　fascinating　little　ways；　that　ever　led　a　lost　youth　into　hopeless　
slavery。　She　was　rather　diminutive　altogether。　So　much　the　more　
precious；　I　thought。　

When　she　went　out　of　the　room　with　Miss　Murdstone　（no　other　
ladies　were　of　the　party）；　I　fell　into　a　reverie；　only　disturbed　by　the　
cruel　apprehension　that　Miss　Murdstone　would　disparage　me　to　
her。　The　amiable　creature　with　the　polished　head　told　me　a　long　
story；　which　I　think　was　about　gardening。　I　think　I　heard　him　say；　
‘my　gardener’；　several　times。　I　seemed　to　pay　the　deepest　attention　
to　him；　but　I　was　wandering　in　a　garden　of　Eden　all　the　while；　with　
Dora。　

My　apprehensions　of　being　disparaged　to　the　object　of　my　
engrossing　affection　were　revived　when　we　went　into　the　drawing…
room；　by　the　grim　and　distant　aspect　of　Miss　Murdstone。　But　I　was　
relieved　of　them　in　an　unexpected　manner。　

‘David　Copperfield；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　beckoning　me　aside　
into　a　window。　‘A　word。’　

I　confronted　Miss　Murdstone　alone。　

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David　Copperfield　

‘David　Copperfield；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　‘I　need　not　enlarge　
upon　family　circumstances。　They　are　not　a　tempting　subject。’　

‘Far　from　it；　ma’am；’　I　returned。　

‘Far　from　it；’　assented　Miss　Murdstone。　‘I　do　not　wish　to　revive　
the　memory　of　past　differences；　or　of　past　outrages。　I　have　
received　outrages　from　a　person—a　female　I　am　sorry　to　say；　for　
the　credit　of　my　sex—who　is　not　to　be　mentioned　without　scorn　
and　disgust；　and　therefore　I　would　rather　not　mention　her。’　

I　felt　very　fiery　on　my　aunt’s　account；　but　I　said　it　would　
certainly　be　better；　if　Miss　Murdstone　pleased；　not　to　mention　her。　
I　could　not　hear　her　disrespectfully　mentioned；　I　added；　without　
expressing　my　opinion　in　a　decided　tone。　

Miss　Murdstone　shut　her　eyes；　and　disdainfully　inclined　her　
head；　then；　slowly　opening　her　eyes；　resumed：　

‘David　Copperfield；　I　shall　not　attempt　to　disguise　the　fact；　that　
I　formed　an　unfavourable　opinion　of　you　in　your　childhood。　It　may　
have　been　a　mistaken　one；　or　you　may　have　ceased　to　justify　it。　
That　is　not　in　question　between　us　now。　I　belong　to　a　family　
remarkable；　I　believe；　for　some　firmness；　and　I　am　not　the　
creature　of　circumstance　or　change。　I　may　have　my　opinion　of　you。　
You　may　have　your　opinion　of　me。’　

I　inclined　my　head；　in　my　turn。　

‘But　it　is　not　necessary；’　said　Miss　Murdstone；　‘that　these　
opinions　should　come　into　collision　here。　Under　existing　
circumstances；　it　is　as　well　on　all　accounts　that　they　should　not。　As　
the　chances　of　life　have　brought　us　together　again；　and　may　bring　
us　together　on　other　occasions；　I　would　say；　let　us　meet　here　as　
distant　acquaintances。　Family　circumstances　are　a　sufficient　
reason　for　our　only　meeting　on　that　footing；　and　it　is　quite　

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David　Copperfield　

unnecessary　that　either　of　us　should　make　the　other　the　subject　of　
remark。　Do　you　approve　of　this？’　

‘Miss　Murdstone；’　I　returned；　‘I　think　you　and　Mr。　Murdstone　
used　me　very　cruelly；　and　treated　my　mother　with　great　
unkindness。　I　shall　always　think　so；　as　long　as　I　live。　But　I　quite　
agree　in　what　you　propose。’　

Miss　Murdstone　shut　her　eyes　again；　and　bent　her　head。　Then；　
just　touching　the　back　of　my　hand　with　the　tips　of　her　cold；　stiff　
fingers；　she　walked　away；　arranging　the　little　fetters　on　her　wrists　
and　round　her　neck；　which　seemed　to　be　the　same　set；　in　exactly　
the　same　state；　as　when　I　had　seen　her　last。　These　reminded　me；　in　
reference　to　Miss　Murdstone’s　nature；　of　the　fetters　over　a　jail　
door；　suggesting　on　the　outside；　to　all　beholders；　what　was　to　be　
expected　within。　

All　I　know　of　the　rest　of　the　evening　is；　that　I　heard　the　empress　
of　my　heart　sing　enchanted　ballads　in　the　French　language；　
generally　to　the　effect　that；　whatever　was　the　matter；　we　ought　
always　to　dance；　Ta　ra　la；　Ta　ra　la！　accompanying　herself　on　a　
glorified　instrument；　resembling　a　guitar。　That　I　was　lost　in　
blissful　delirium。　That　I　refused　refreshment。　That　my　soul　
recoiled　from　punch　particularly。　That　when　Miss　Murdstone　took　
her　into　custody　and　led　her　away；　she　smiled　and　gave　me　her　
delicious　hand。　That　I　caught　a　view　of　myself　in　a　mirror；　looking　
perfectly　imbecile　and　idiotic。　That　I　retired　to　bed　in　a　most　
maudlin　state　of　mind；　and　got　up　in　a　crisis　of　feeble　infatuation。　

It　was　a　fine　morning；　and　early；　and　I　thought　I　would　go　and　
take　a　stroll　down　one　of　those　wire…arched　walks；　and　indulge　my　
passion　by　dwelling　on　her　image。　On　my　way　through　the　hall；　I　
encountered　her　little　dog；　who　was　called　Jip—short　for　Gipsy。　I　

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David　Copperfield　

approached　him　tenderly；　for　I　loved　even　him；　but　he　showed　his　
whole　set　of　teeth；　got　under　a　chair　expressly　to　snarl；　and　
wouldn’t　hear　of　the　least　familiarity。　

The　garden　was　cool　and　solitary。　I　walked　about；　wondering　
what　my　feelings　of　happiness　would　be；　if　I　could　ever　become　
engaged　to　this　dear　wonder。　As　to　marriage；　and　fortune；　and　all　
that；　I　believe　I　was　almost　as　innocently　undesigning　then；　as　
when　I　loved　little　Em’ly。　To　be　allowed　to　call　her　‘Dora’；　to　write　
to　her；　to　dote　upon　and　worship　her；　to　have　reason　to　think　that　
when　she　was　with　other　people　she　was　yet　mindful　of　me；　
seemed　to　me　the　summit　of　human　ambition—I　am　sure　it　was　
the　summit　of　mine。　There　is　no　doubt　whatever　that　I　was　a　
lackadaisical　young　spooney；　but　there　was　a　purity　of　heart　in　all　
this；　that　prevents　my　having　quite　a　contemptuous　recollection　of　
it；　let　me　laugh　as　I　may。　

I　had　not　been　walking　long；　when　I　turned　a　corner；　and　met　
her。　I　tingle　again　from　head　to　foot　as　my　recollection　turns　that　
corner；　and　my　pen　shakes　in　my　hand。　

‘You—are—out　early；　Miss　Spenlow；’　said　I。　

‘It’s　so　stupid　at　home；’　she　replied；　‘and　Miss　Murdstone　is　so　
absurd！　She　talks　such　nonsense　about　its　being　necessary　for　the　
day　to　be　aired；　before　I　come　out。　Aired！’　（She　laughed；　here；　in　
the　most　melodious　manner。）　‘On　a　Sunday　morning；　when　I　don’t　
practise；　I　must　do　something。　So　I　told　papa　last　night　I　must　
come　out。　Besides；　it’s　the　brightest　time　of　the　whole　day。