英语天堂-第46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！


“And　now；”　said　Marie；　“I　believe　I’ve　told　you　everything；　so　that；　when　my　next　sick　turn　comes　on；　you’ll　be　able　to　go　forward　entirely；　without　consulting　me；—only　about　Eva；—she　requires　watching。”
“She　seems　to　be　a　good　child；　very；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　“I　never　saw　a　better　child。”
“Eva’s　peculiar；”　said　her　mother；　“very。　There　are　things　about　her　so　singular；　she　isn’t　like　me；　now；　a　particle；”　and　Marie　sighed；　as　if　this　was　a　truly　melancholy　consideration。
Miss　Ophelia　in　her　own　heart　said；　“I　hope　she　isn’t；”　but　had　prudence　enough　to　keep　it　down。
“Eva　always　was　disposed　to　be　with　servants；　and　I　think　that　well　enough　with　some　children。　Now；　I　always　played　with　father’s　little　negroes—it　never　did　me　any　harm。　But　Eva　somehow　always　seems　to　put　herself　on　an　equality　with　every　creature　that　comes　near　her。　It’s　a　strange　thing　about　the　child。　I　never　have　been　able　to　break　her　of　it。　St。　Clare；　I　believe；　encourages　her　in　it。　The　fact　is；　St。　Clare　indulges　every　creature　under　this　roof　but　his　own　wife。”
Again　Miss　Ophelia　sat　in　blank　silence。
“Now；　there’s　no　way　with　servants；”　said　Marie；　“but　to　put　them　down；　and　keep　them　down。　It　was　always　natural　to　me；　from　a　child。　Eva　is　enough　to　spoil　a　whole　house…full。　What　she　will　do　when　she　comes　to　keep　house　herself；　I’m　sure　I　don’t　know。　I　hold　to　being　kind　to　servants—I　always　am；　but　you　must　make　’em　know　their　place。　Eva　never　does；　there’s　no　getting　into　the　child’s　head　the　first　beginning　of　an　idea　what　a　servant’s　place　is！　You　heard　her　offering　to　take　care　of　me　nights；　to　let　Mammy　sleep！　That’s　just　a　specimen　of　the　way　the　child　would　be　doing　all　the　time；　if　she　was　left　to　herself。”
“Why；”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　bluntly；　“I　suppose　you　think　your　servants　are　human　creatures；　and　ought　to　have　some　rest　when　they　are　tired。”
“Certainly；　of　course。　I’m　very　particular　in　letting　them　have　everything　that　comes　convenient；—anything　that　doesn’t　put　one　at　all　out　of　the　way；　you　know。　Mammy　can　make　up　her　sleep；　some　time　or　other；　there’s　no　difficulty　about　that。　She’s　the　sleepiest　concern　that　ever　I　saw；　sewing；　standing；　or　sitting；　that　creature　will　go　to　sleep；　and　sleep　anywhere　and　everywhere。　No　danger　but　Mammy　gets　sleep　enough。　But　this　treating　servants　as　if　they　were　exotic　flowers；　or　china　vases；　is　really　ridiculous；”　said　Marie；　as　she　plunged　languidly　into　the　depths　of　a　voluminous　and　pillowy　lounge；　and　drew　towards　her　an　elegant　cut…glass　vinaigrette。
“You　see；”　she　continued；　in　a　faint　and　lady…like　voice；　like　the　last　dying　breath　of　an　Arabian　jessamine；　or　something　equally　ethereal；　“you　see；　Cousin　Ophelia；　I　don’t　often　speak　of　myself。　It　isn’t　my　habit；　’t　isn’t　agreeable　to　me。　In　fact；　I　haven’t　strength　to　do　it。　But　there　are　points　where　St。　Clare　and　I　differ。　St。　Clare　never　understood　me；　never　appreciated　me。　I　think　it　lies　at　the　root　of　all　my　ill　health。　St。　Clare　means　well；　I　am　bound　to　believe；　but　men　are　constitutionally　selfish　and　inconsiderate　to　woman。　That；　at　least；　is　my　impression。”
Miss　Ophelia；　who　had　not　a　small　share　of　the　genuine　New　England　caution；　and　a　very　particular　horror　of　being　drawn　into　family　difficulties；　now　began　to　foresee　something　of　this　kind　impending；　so；　composing　her　face　into　a　grim　neutrality；　and　drawing　out　of　her　pocket　about　a　yard　and　a　quarter　of　stocking；　which　she　kept　as　a　specific　against　what　Dr。　Watts　asserts　to　be　a　personal　habit　of　Satan　when　people　have　idle　hands；　she　proceeded　to　knit　most　energetically；　shutting　her　lips　together　in　a　way　that　said；　as　plain　as　words　could；　“You　needn’t　try　to　make　me　speak。　I　don’t　want　anything　to　do　with　your　affairs；”—in　fact；　she　looked　about　as　sympathizing　as　a　stone　lion。　But　Marie　didn’t　care　for　that。　She　had　got　somebody　to　talk　to；　and　she　felt　it　her　duty　to　talk；　and　that　was　enough；　and　reinforcing　herself　by　smelling　again　at　her　vinaigrette；　she　went　on。
“You　see；　I　brought　my　own　property　and　servants　into　the　connection；　when　I　married　St。　Clare；　and　I　am　legally　entitled　to　manage　them　my　own　way。　St。　Clare　had　his　fortune　and　his　servants；　and　I’m　well　enough　content　he　should　manage　them　his　way；　but　St。　Clare　will　be　interfering。　He　has　wild；　extravagant　notions　about　things；　particularly　about　the　treatment　of　servants。　He　really　does　act　as　if　he　set　his　servants　before　me；　and　before　himself；　too；　for　he　lets　them　make　him　all　sorts　of　trouble；　and　never　lifts　a　finger。　Now；　about　some　things；　St。　Clare　is　really　frightful—he　frightens　me—good…natured　as　he　looks；　in　general。　Now；　he　has　set　down　his　foot　that；　come　what　will；　there　shall　not　be　a　blow　struck　in　this　house；　except　what　he　or　I　strike；　and　he　does　it　in　a　way　that　I　really　dare　not　cross　him。　Well；　you　may　see　what　that　leads　to；　for　St。　Clare　wouldn’t　raise　his　hand；　if　every　one　of　them　walked　over　him；　and　I—you　see　how　cruel　it　would　be　to　require　me　to　make　the　exertion。　Now；　you　know　these　servants　are　nothing　but　grown…up　children。”
“I　don’t　know　anything　about　it；　and　I　thank　the　Lord　that　I　don’t！”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　shortly。
“Well；　but　you　will　have　to　know　something；　and　know　it　to　your　cost；　if　you　stay　here。　You　don’t　know　what　a　provoking；　stupid；　careless；　unreasonable；　childish；　ungrateful　set　of　wretches　they　are。”
Marie　seemed　wonderfully　supported；　always；　when　she　got　upon　this　topic；　and　she　now　opened　her　eyes；　and　seemed　quite　to　forget　her　languor。
“You　don’t　know；　and　you　can’t；　the　daily；　hourly　trials　that　beset　a　housekeeper　from　them；　everywhere　and　every　way。　But　it’s　no　use　to　complain　to　St。　Clare。　He　talks　the　strangest　stuff。　He　says　we　have　made　them　what　they　are；　and　ought　to　bear　with　them。　He　says　their　faults　are　all　owing　to　us；　and　that　it　would　be　cruel　to　make　the　fault　and　punish　it　too。　He　says　we　shouldn’t　do　any　better；　in　their　place；　just　as　if　one　could　reason　from　them　to　us；　you　know。”
“Don’t　you　believe　that　the　Lord　made　them　of　one　blood　with　us？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　shortly。
“No；　indeed　not　I！　A　pretty　story；　truly！　They　are　a　degraded　race。”
“Don’t　you　think　they’ve　got　immortal　souls？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　with　increasing　indignation。
“O；　well；”　said　Marie；　yawning；　“that；　of　course—nobody　doubts　that。　But　as　to　putting　them　on　any　sort　of　equality　with　us；　you　know；　as　if　we　could　be　compared；　why；　it’s　impossible！　Now；　St。　Clare　really　has　talked　to　me　as　if　keeping　Mammy　from　her　husband　was　like　keeping　me　from　mine。　There’s　no　comparing　in　this　way。　Mammy　couldn’t　have　the　feelings　that　I　should。　It’s　a　different　thing　altogether；—of　course；　it　is；—and　yet　St。　Clare　pretends　not　to　see　it。　And　just　as　if　Mammy　could　love　her　little　dirty　babies　as　I　love　Eva！　Yet　St。　Clare　once　really　and　soberly　tried　to　persuade　me　that　it　was　my　duty；　with　my　weak　health；　and　all　I　suffer；　to　let　Mammy　go　back；　and　take　somebody　else　in　her　place。　That　was　a　little　too　much　even　for　me　to　bear。　I　don’t　often　show　my　feelings；　I　make　it　a　principle　to　endure　everything　in　silence；　it’s　a　wife’s　hard　lot；　and　I　bear　it。　But　I　did　break　out；　that　time；　so　that　he　has　never　alluded　to　the　subject　since。　But　I　know　by　his　looks；　and　little　things　that　he　says；　that　he　thinks　so　as　much　as　ever；　and　it’s　so　trying；　so　provoking！”
Miss　Ophelia　looked　very　much　as　if　she　was　afraid　she　should　say　something；　but　she　rattled　away　with　her　needles　in　a　way　that　had　volumes　of　meaning　in　it；　if　Marie　could　only　have　understood　it。
“So；　you　just　see；”　she　continued；　“what　you’ve　got　to　manage。　A　household　without　any　rule；　where　servants　have　it　all　their　own　way；　do　what　they　please；　and　have　what　they　please；　except　so　far　as　I；　with　my　feeble　health；　have　kept　up　government。　I　keep　my　cowhide　about；　and　sometimes　I　do　lay　it　on；　but　the　exertion　is　always　too　much　for　me。　If　St。　Clare　would　only　have　this　thing　done　as　others　do—”
“And　how’s　that？”
“Why；　send　them　to　the　calaboose；　or　some　of　the　other　places　to　be　flogged。　That’s　the　only　way。　If　I　wasn’t　such　a　poor；　feeble　piece；　I　believe　I　should　manage　with　twice　the　energy　that　St。　Clare　does。”
“And　how　does　St。　Clare　contrive　to　manage？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。　“You　say　he　never　strikes　a　blow。”
“Well；　men　have　a　more　commanding　way；　you　know；　it　is　easier　for　them；　besides；　if　you　ever　looked　full　in　his　eye；　it’s　peculiar；—that　eye；—and　if　he　speaks　decidedly；　there’s　a　kind　of　flash。　I’m　afraid　of　it；　myself；　and　the　servants　know　they　must　mind。　I　couldn’t　do　as　much　by　a　regular　storm　and　scolding　as　St。　Clare　can　by　one　turn　of　his　eye；　if　once　he　is　in　earnest。　O；　there’s　no　trouble　about　St。　Clare；　that’s　the　reason　he’s　no　more　feeling　for　me。　But　you’ll　find；　when　you　come　to　manage；　that　there’s　no　getting　along　without　severity；—they　are　so　bad；　so　deceitful；　so　lazy”。
“The　old　tune；”　said　St。　Clare；　sauntering　in。　“What　an　awful　acomount　these　wicked　creatures　will　have　to　settle；　at　last；　especially　for　being　lazy！　You　see；　cousin；”　said　he；　as　he　stretched　himself　at　full　length　on　a　lounge　opposite　to　Marie；　“it’s　wholly　inexcusable　in　them；　in　the　light　of　the　example　that　Marie　and　I　set　them；—this　laziness。”
“Come；　now；　St。　Clare；　you　are　too　bad！”　said　Marie。
“Am　I；　now？　Why；　I　thought　I　was　talking　good；　quite　remarkably　for　me。　I　try　to　enforce　your　remarks；　Marie；　always。”
“You　know　you　meant　no　such　thing；　St。　Clare；”　said　Marie。
“O；　I　must　have　been　mistaken；　then。　Thank　you；　my　dear；　for　setting　me　right。”
“You　do　really　try　to　be　provoking；”　said　Marie。
“O；　come；　Marie；　the　day　is　growing　warm；　and　I　have　just　had　a　long　quarrel　with　Dolph；　which　has　fatigued　me　excessively；　so；　pray　be　agreeable；　now；　and　let　a　fellow　repose　in　the　light　of　your　smile。”
“What’s　the　matter　about　Dolph？”　said　Marie。　“That　fellow’s　impudence　has　been　growing　to　a　point　that　is　perfectly　intolerable　to　me。　I　only　wish　I　had　the　undisputed　management　of　him　a　while。　I’d　bring　him　down！”
“What　you　say；　my　dear；　is　marked　with　your　usual　acuteness　and　good　sense；”　said　St。　Clare。　“As　to　Dolph；　the　case　is　this：　that　he　has　so　long　been　engaged　in　imitating　my　graces　and　perfections；　that　he　has；　at　last；　really　mistaken　himself　for　his　master；　and　I　have　been　obliged　to　give　him　a　little　insight　into　his　mistake。”
“How？”　said　Marie。
“Why；　I　was　obliged　to　let　him　understand　explicitly　that　I　preferred　to　keep　some　of　my　clothes　for　my　own　personal　wearing；　also；　I　put　his　magnificence　upon　an　allowance　of　cologne…water；　and　actually　was　so　cruel　as　to　restrict　him　to　one　dozen　of　my　cambric　handkerchiefs。　Dolph　was　particularly　huffy　about　it；　and　I　had　to　talk　to　him　like　a　father；　to　bring　him　round。”
“O！　St。　Clare；　when　will　you　learn　how　to　treat　your　servants？　It’s　abominable；　the　way　you　indulge　them！”　said　Marie。
“Why；　after　all；　what’s　the　harm　of　the　poor　dog’s　wanting　to　be　like　his　master；　and　if　I　haven’t　brought　him　up　any　better　than　to　find　his　chief　good　in　cologne　and　cambric　handkerchiefs；　why　shouldn’t　I　give　them　to　him？”
“And　why　haven’t　you　brought　him　up　better？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　with　blunt　determination。
“Too　much　trouble；—laziness；　cousin；　laziness；—which　ruins　more　souls　than　you　can　shake　a　stick　at。　If　it　weren’t　for　laziness；　I　should　have　been　a　perfect　angel；　myself。　I’m　inclined　to　think　that　laziness　is　what　your　old　Dr。　Botherem；　up　in　Vermont；　used　to　call　the　‘essence　of　moral　evil。’　It’s　an　awful　consideration；　certainly。”
“I　think　you　slaveholders　have　an　awful　responsibility　upon　you；”　said　Miss　Ophelia。　“I　wouldn’t　have　it；　for　a　thousand　worlds。　You　ought　to　educate　your　slaves；　and　treat　them　like　reasonable　creatures；—like　immortal　creatures；　that　you’ve　got　to　stand　before　the　bar　of　God　with。　That’s　my　mind；”　said　the　good　lady；　breaking　suddenly　out　with　a　tide　of　zeal　that　had　been　gaining　strength　in　her　mind　all　the　morning。
“O！　come；　come；”　said　St。　Clare；　getting　up　quickly；　“what　do　you　know　about　us？”　And　he　sat　down　to　the　piano；　and　rattled　a　lively　piece　of　music。　St。　Clare　had　a　decided　genius　for　music。　His　touch　was　brilliant　and　firm；　and　his　fingers　flew　over　the　keys　with　a　rapid　and　bird…like　motion；　airy；　and　yet　decided。　He　played　piece　after　piece；　like　a　man　who　is　trying　to　play　himself　into　a　good　humor。　After　pushing　the　music　aside；　he　rose　up；　and　said；　gayly；　“Well；　now；　cousin；　you’ve　given　us　a　good　talk　and　done　your　duty；　on　the　whole；　I　think　the　better　of　you　for　it。　I　make　no　manner　of　doubt　that　you　threw　a　very　diamond　of　truth　at　me；　though　you　see　it　hit　me　so　directly　in　the　face　that　it　wasn’t　exactly　appreciated；　at　first。”
“For　my　part；　I　don’t　see　any　use　in　such　sort　of　talk；”　said　Marie。　“I’m　sure；　if　anybody　does　more　for　servants　than　we　do；　I’d　like　to　know　who；　and　it　don’t　do　’em　a　bit　good；—not　a　particle；—they　get　worse　and　worse。　As　to　talking　to　them；　or　anything　like　that；　I’m　sure　I　have　talked　till　I　was　tired　and　hoarse；　telling　them　their　duty；　and　all　that；　and　I’m　sure　they　can　go　to　church　when　they　like；　though　they　don’t　understand　a　word　of　the　sermon；　more　than　so　many　pigs；—so　it　isn’t　of　any　great　use　for　them　to　go；　as　I　see；　but　they　do　go；　and　so　they　have　every　chance；　but；　as　I　said　before；　they　are　a　degraded　race；　and　always　will　be；　and　there　isn’t　any　help　for　them；　you　can’t　make　anything　of　them；　if　you　try。　You　see；　Cousin　Ophelia；　I’ve　tried；　and　you　haven’t；　I　was　born　and　bred　among　them；　and　I　know。”
Miss　Ophelia　thought　she　had　said　enough；　and　therefore　sat　silent。　St。　Clare　whistled　a　tune。
“St。　Clare；　I　wish　you　wouldn’t　whistle；”　said　Marie；　“it　makes　my　head　worse。”
“I　won’t；”　said　St。　Clare。　“Is　there　anything　else　you　wouldn’t　wish　me　to　do？”
“I　wish　you　would　have　some　kind　of　sympathy　for　my　trials；　you　never　have　any　feeling　for　me。”
“My　dear　acomusing　angel！”　said　St。　Clare。
“It’s　provoking　to　be　talked　to　in　that　way。”
“Then；　how　will　you　be　talked　to？　I’ll　talk　to　order；—any　way　you’ll　mention；—only　to　give　satisfaction。”
A　gay　laugh　from　the　court　rang　through　the　silken　curtains　of　the　verandah。　St。　Clare　stepped　out；　and　lifting　up　the　curtain；　laughed　too。
“What　is　it？”　said　Miss　Ophelia；　coming　to　the　railing。
There　sat　Tom；　on　a　little　mossy　seat　in　the　court；　every　one　of　his　button…holes　stuck　full　of　cape　jessamines；　and　Eva；　gayly　laughing；　was　hanging　a　wreath　of　roses　round　his　neck；　and　then　she　sat　down　on　his　knee；　like　a　chip…sparrow；　still　laughing。
“O；　Tom；　you　look　so　funny！”
Tom　had　a　sober；　benevolent　smile；　and　seemed；　in　his　quiet　way；　to　be　enjoying　the　fun　quite　as　much　as　his　little　mistress。　He　lifted　his　eyes；　when　he　saw　his　master；　with　a　half…deprecating；　apologetic　air。
“How　can　you　let　her？”　said　Miss　Ophelia。
“Why　not？”　said　St。　Clare。
“Why；　I　don’t　know；　it　seems　so　dreadful！”
“You　would　think　no　harm　in　a　child’s　caressing　a　large　dog；　even　if　he　was　black；　but　a　creature　that　can　think；　and　reason；　and　feel；　and　is　immortal；　you　shudder　at；　confess　it；　cousin。　I　know　the　feeling　among　some　of　you　northerners　well　enough。