little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第32部分

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her　father's　room；　clinging　to　both　her　parents　with　the　greatest
tenderness；　and　weeping　on　her　father's　shoulder。

The　latter　part　of　the　day　turning　out　wet；　they　were　fain　to　keep　the
house；　look　over　Mr　Meagles's　collection；　and　beguile　the　time　with
conversation。　This　Gowan　had　plenty　to　say　for　himself；　and　said　it
in　an　off…hand　and　amusing　manner。　He　appeared　to　be　an　artist　by
profession；　and　to　have　been　at　Rome　some　time；　yet　he　had　a　slight；
careless；　amateur　way　with　him……a　perceptible　limp；　both　in　his　devotion
to　art　and　his　attainments……which　Clennam　could　scarcely　understand。

He　applied　to　Daniel　Doyce　for　help；　as　they　stood　together；　looking　out
of　window。

'You　know　Mr　Gowan？'　he　said　in　a　low　voice。

'I　have　seen　him　here。　es　here　every　Sunday　when　they　are　at　home。'

'An　artist；　I　infer　from　what　he　says？'

'A　sort　of　a　one；'　said　Daniel　Doyce；　in　a　surly　tone。

'What　sort　of　a　one？'　asked　Clennam；　with　a　smile。

'Why；　he　has　sauntered　into　the　Arts　at　a　leisurely　Pall…Mall　pace；'
said　Doyce；　'and　I　doubt　if　they　care　to　be　taken　quite　so　coolly。'

Pursuing　his　inquiries；　Clennam　found　that　the　Gowan　family　were　a　very
distant　ramification　of　the　Barnacles；　and　that　the　paternal　Gowan；
originally　attached　to　a　legation　abroad；　had　been　pensioned　off　as　a
missioner　of　nothing　particular　somewhere　or　other；　and　had　died　at
his　post　with　his　drawn　salary　in　his　hand；　nobly　defending　it　to　the
last　extremity。　In　consideration　of　this　eminent　public　service；　the
Barnacle　then　in　power　had　remended　the　Crown　to　bestow　a　pension　of
two　or　three　hundred　a…year　on　his　widow；　to　which　the　next　Barnacle　in
power　had　added　certain　shady　and　sedate　apartments　in　the　Palaces　at
Hampton　Court；　where　the　old　lady　still　lived；　deploring　the　degeneracy
of　the　times　in　pany　with　several　other　old　ladies　of　both　sexes。　Her
son；　Mr　Henry　Gowan；　inheriting　from　his　father；　the　missioner；　that
very　questionable　help　in　life；　a　very　small　independence；　had　been
difficult　to　settle；　the　rather；　as　public　appointments　chanced　to
be　scarce；　and　his　genius；　during　his　earlier　manhood；　was　of　that
exclusively　agricultural　character　which　applies　itself　to　the
cultivation　of　wild　oats。　At　last　he　had　declared　that　he　would　bee
a　Painter；　partly　because　he　had　always　had　an　idle　knack　that　way；
and　partly　to　grieve　the　souls　of　the　Barnacles…in…chief　who　had　not
provided　for　him。　So　it　had　e　to　pass　successively；　first；　that
several　distinguished　ladies　had　been　frightfully　shocked；　then；　that
portfolios　of　his　performances　had　been　handed　about　o'　nights；　and
declared　with　ecstasy　to　be　perfect　Claudes；　perfect　Cuyps；　perfect
phaenomena；　then；　that　Lord　Decimus　had　bought　his　picture；　and　had
asked　the　President　and　Council　to　dinner　at　a　blow；　and　had　said；　with
his　own　magnificent　gravity；　'Do　you　know；　there　appears　to　me　to
be　really　immense　merit　in　that　work？'　and；　in　short；　that　people　of
condition　had　absolutely　taken　pains　to　bring　him　into　fashion。　But；
somehow；　it　had　all　failed。　The　prejudiced　public　had　stood　out　against
it　obstinately。　They　had　determined　not　to　admire　Lord　Decimus's
picture。　They　had　determined　to　believe　that　in　every　service；　except
their　oself；　by　striving　early　and　late；　and
by　working　heart　and　soul；　might　and　main。　So　now　Mr　Gowan；　like　that
worn…out　old　coffin　which　never　was　Mahomet's　nor　anybody　else's；　hung
midway　between　two　points：　jaundiced　and　jealous　as　to　the　one　he　had
left：　jaundiced　and　jealous　as　to　the　other　that　he　couldn't　reach。

Such　was　the　substance　of　Clennam's　discoveries　concerning　him；　made
that　rainy　Sunday　afternoon　and　afterwards。

About　an　hour　or　so　after　dinner　time；　Young　Barnacle　appeared；　attended
by　his　eye…glass；　in　honour　of　whose　family　connections；　Mr　Meagles　had
cashiered　the　pretty　parlour…maids　for　the　day；　and　had　placed　on　duty
in　their　stead　two　dingy　men。　Young　Barnacle　was　in　the　last
degree　amazed　and　disconcerted　at　sight　of　Arthur；　and　had　murmured
involuntarily；　'Look　here！　upon　my　soul；　you　know！'　before　his　presence
of　mind　returned。

Even　then；　he　was　obliged　to　embrace　the　earliest　opportunity　of　taking
his　friend　into　a　window；　and　saying；　in　a　nasal　way　that　was　a　part　of
his　general　debility：

'I　want　to　speak　to　you；　Gowan。　I　say。　Look　here。　Who　is　that　fellow？'

'A　friend　of　our　host's。　None　of　mine。'

'He's　a　most　ferocious　Radical；　you　know；'　said　Young　Barnacle。

'Is　he？　How　do　you　know？'

'Ecod；　sir；　he　was　Pitching　into　our　people　the　other　day　in　the　most
tremendous　manner。　Went　up　to　our　place　and　Pitched　into　my　father　to
that　extent　that　it　was　necessary　to　order　him　out。　Came　back　to
our　Department；　and　Pitched　into　me。　Look　here。　You　never　saw　such　a
fellow。'

'What　did　he　want？'

'Ecod；　sir；'　returned　Young　Barnacle；　'he　said　he　wanted　to　know；　you
know！　Pervaded　our　Department……without　an　appointment……and　said　he
wanted　to　know！'

The　stare　of　indignant　wonder　with　which　Young　Barnacle　acpanied
this　disclosure；　would　have　strained　his　eyes　injuriously　but　for
the　opportune　relief　of　dinner。　Mr　Meagles　（who　had　been　extremely
solicitous　to　know　how　his　uncle　and　aunt　were）　begged　him　to　conduct
Mrs　Meagles　to　the　dining…room。　And　when　he　sat　on　Mrs　Meagles's　right
hand；　Mr　Meagles　looked　as　gratified　as　if　his　whole　family　were　there。

All　the　natural　charm　of　the　previous　day　was　gone。　The　eaters　of　the
dinner；　like　the　dinner　itself；　were　lukewarm；　insipid；　overdone……and
all　owing　to　this　poor　little　dull　Young　Barnacle。　Conversationless　at
any　time；　he　was　now　the　victim　of　a　weakness　special　to　the　occasion；
and　solely　referable　to　Clennam。　He　was　under　a　pressing　and　continual
necessity　of　looking　at　that　gentleman；　which　occasioned　his　eye…glass
to　get　into　his　soup；　into　his　wine…glass；　into　Mrs　Meagles's　plate；　to
hang　down　his　back　like　a　bell…rope；　and　be　several　times　disgracefully
restored　to　his　bosom　by　one　of　the　dingy　men。　Weakened　in　mind　by　his
frequent　losses　of　this　instrument；　and　its　determination　not　to　stick
in　his　eye；　and　more　and　more　enfeebled　in　intellect　every　time　he
looked　at　the　mysterious　Clennam；　he　applied　spoons　to　his　eyes；
forks；　and　other　foreign　matters　connected　with　the　furniture　of　the
dinner…table。　His　discovery　of　these　mistakes　greatly　increased　his
difficulties；　but　never　released　him　from　the　necessity　of　looking　at
Clennam。　And　whenever　Clennam　spoke；　this　ill…starred　young　man　was
clearly　seized　with　a　dread　that　he　was　ing；　by　some　artful　device；
round　to　that　point　of　wanting　to　know；　you　know。

It　may　be　questioned；　therefore；　whether　any　one　but　Mr　Meagles　had　much
enjoyment　of　the　time。　Mr　Meagles；　however；　thoroughly　enjoyed　Young
Barnacle。　As　a　mere　flask　of　the　golden　water　in　the　tale　became　a　full
fountain　when　it　was　poured　out；　so　Mr　Meagles　seemed　to　feel　that　this
small　spice　of　Barnacle　imparted　to　his　table　the　flavour　of　the　whole
family…tree。　In　its　presence；　his　frank；　fine；　genuine　qualities
paled；　he　was　not　so　easy；　he　was　not　so　natural；　he　was　striving　after
something　that　did　not　belong　to　him；　he　was　not　himself。　What　a　strange
peculiarity　on　the　part　of　Mr　Meagles；　and　where　should　we　find　another
such　case！

At　last　the　wet　Sunday　wore　itself　out　in　a　wet　night；　and　Young
Barnacle　went　home　in　a　cab；　feebly　smoking；　and　the　objectionable　Gowan
went　away　on　foot；　acpanied　by　the　objectionable　dog。　Pet　had　taken
the　most　amiable　pains　all　day　to　be　friendly　with　Clennam；　but　Clennam
had　been　a　little　reserved　since　breakfast……that　is　to　say；　would　have
been；　if　he　had　loved　her。

When　he　had　gone　to　his　own　room；　and　had　again　thrown　himself　into　the
chair　by　the　fire；　Mr　Doyce　knocked　at　the　door；　candle　in　hand；　to
ask　him　how　and　at　what　hour　he　proposed　returning　on　the　morrow？　After
settling　this　question；　he　said　a　word　to　Mr　Doyce　about　this　Gowan……who
would　have　run　in　his　head　a　good　deal；　if　he　had　been　his　rival。

'Those　are　not　good　prospects　for　a　painter；'　said　Clennam。

'No；'　returned　Doyce。

Mr　Doyce　stood；　chamber…candlestick　in　hand；　the　other　hand　in　his
pocket；　looking　hard　at　the　flame　of　his　candle；　with　a　certain　quiet
perception　in　his　face　that　they　were　going　to　say　something　more。　'I
thought　our　good　friend　a　little　changed；　and　out　of　spirits；　after　he
came　this　morning？'　said　Clennam。

'Yes；'　returned　Doyce。

'But　not　his　daughter？'　said　Clennam。

'No；'　said　Doyce。

There　was　a　pause　on　both　sides。　Mr　Doyce；　still　looking　at　the　flame　of
his　candle；　slowly　resumed：

'The　truth　is；　he　has　twice　taken　his　daughter　abroad　in　the　hope　of
separating　her　from　Mr　Gowan。　He　rather　thinks　she　is　disposed　to　like
him；　and　he　has　painful　doubts　（I　quite　agree　with　him；　as　I　dare　say
you　do）　of　the　hopefulness　of　such　a　marriage。'

'There……'　Clennam　choked；　and　coughed；　and　stopped。

'Yes；　you　have　taken　cold；'　said　Daniel　Doyce。　But　without　looking　at
him。

'There　is　an　engagement　between　them；　of　course？'　said　Clennam　airily。

'No。　As　I　am　told；　certainly　not。　It　has　been　solicited　on　the
gentleman's　part；　but　none　has　been　made。　Since　their　recent　return；
our　friend　has　yielded　to　a　weekly　visit；　but　that　is　the　utmost。　Minnie
would　not　deceive　her　father　and　mother。　You　have　travelled　with　them；
and　I　believe　you　know　what　a　bond　there　is　among　them；　extending　even
beyond　this　present　life。　All　that　there　is　between　Miss　Minnie　and　Mr
Gowan；　I　have　no　doubt　we　see。'

'Ah！　We　see　enough！'　cried　Arthur。

Mr　Doyce　wished　him　Good　Night　in　the　tone　of　a　man　who　had　heard　a
mournful；　not　to　say　despairing；　exclamation；　and　who　sought　to　infuse
some　encouragement　and　hope　into　the　mind　of　the　person　by　whom　it　had
been　uttered。　Such　tone　was　probably　a　part　of　his　oddity；　as　one　of
a　crotchety　band；　for　how　could　he　have　heard　anything　of　that　kind；
without　Clennam's　hearing　it　too？

The　rain　fell　heavily　on　the　roof；　and　pattered　on　the　ground；　and
dripped　among　the　evergreens　and　the　leafless　branches　of　the　trees。　The
rain　fell　heavily；　drearily。　It　was　a　night　of　tears。

If　Clennam　had　not　decided　against　falling　in　love　with　Pet；　if　he
had　had　the　weakness　to　do　it；　if　he　had；　little　by　little；　persuaded
himself　to　set　all　the　earnestness　of　his　nature；　all　the　might　of　his
hope；　and　all　the　wealth　of　his　matured　character；　on　that　cast；　if
he　had　done　this　and　found　that　all　was　lost；　he　would　have　been；
that　night；　unutterably　miserable。　As　it　was……As　it　was；　the　rain　fell
heavily；　drearily。




CHAPTER　18。　Little　Dorrit's　Lover


Little　Dorrit　had　not　attained　her　twenty…second　birthday　without
finding　a　lover。　Even　in　the　shallow　Marshalsea；　the　ever　young　Archer
shot　off　a　few　featherless　arrows　now　and　then　from　a　mouldy　bow；　and
winged　a　Collegian　or　two。

Little　Dorrit's　lover；　however；　was　not　a　Collegian。　He　was　the
sentimental　son　of　a　turnkey。　His　father　hoped；　in　the　fulness　of　time；
to　leave　him　the　inheritance　of　an　unstained　key；　and　had　from　his
early　youth　familiarised　him　with　the　duties　of　his　office；　and　with　an
ambition　to　retain　the　prison…lock　in　the　family。　While　the　succession
was　yet　in　abeyance；　he　assisted　his　mother　in　the　conduct　of　a　snug
tobacco　business　round　the　corner　of　Horsemonger　Lane　（his　father　being
a　non…resident　turnkey）；　which　could　usually　mand　a　neat　connection
within　the　College　walls。

Years　agone；　when　the　object　of　his　affections　was　wont　to　sit　in　her
little　arm…chair　by　the　high　Lodge…fender；　Young　John　（family　name；
Chivery）；　a　year　older　than　herself；　had　eyed　her　with　admiring　wonder。
When　he　had　played　with　her　in　the　yard；　his　favourite　game　had　been　to
counterfeit　locking　her　up　in　corners；　and　to　counterfeit　letting
her　out　for　real　kisses。　When　he　grew　tall　enough　to　peep　through　the
keyhole　of　the　great　lock　of　the　main　door；　he　had　divers　times　set　down
his　father's　dinner；　or　supper；　to　get　on　as　it　might　on　the　outer　side
thereof；　while　he　stood　taking　cold　in　one　eye　by　dint　of　peeping　at　her
through　that　airy　perspective。

If　Young　John　had　ever　slackened　in　his　truth　in　the　less　perable
days　of　his　boyhood；　when　youth　is　prone　to　wear　its　boots　unlaced　and
is　happily　unconscious　of　digestive　organs；　he　had　soon　strung　it　up
again　and　screwed　it　tight。　At　nieen；　his　hand　had　inscribed　in　chalk
on　that　part　of　the　wall　which　fronted　her　lodgings；　on　the　occasion　of
her　birthday；　'Wele　sweet　nursling　of　the　Fairies！'　At　twenty…three；
the　same　hand　falteringly　presented　cigars　on　Sundays　to　the　Father　of
the　Marshalsea；　and　Father　of　the　queen　of　his　soul。

Young　John　was　small　of　stature；　with　rather　weak　legs　and　very　weak
light　hair。　One　of　his　eyes　（perhaps　the　eye　that　used　to　peep　through
the　keyhole）　was　also　weak；　and　looked　larger　than　the　other；　as　if
it　couldn't　collect　itself。　Young　John　was　gentle　likewise。　But　he　was
great　of　soul。　Poetical；　expansive；　faithful。

Though　too　humble　before　the　ruler　of　his　heart　to　be　sanguine；　Young
John　had　considered　the　object　of　his　attachment　in　all　its　lights　and
shades。　Following　it　out　to　blissful　results；　he　had　descried；　without
self…mendation；　a　fitness　in　it。　Say　things　prospered；　and　they　were
united。　She；　the　child　of　the　Marshalsea；　he；　the　lock…keeper。　There
was　a　fitness　in　that。　Say　he　became　a　resident　turnkey。　She　would
officially　succeed　to　the　chamber　she　had　rented　so　long。　There　was　a
beautiful　propriety　in　that。　It　looked　over　the　wall；　if　you　stood　on
tip…toe；　and；　with　a　trellis…work　of　scarlet　beans　and　a　canary　or　so；
would　bee　a　very　Arbour。　There　was　a　charming　idea　in　that。　Then；
being　all　in　all　to　one　another；　there　was　even　an　appropriate　grace　in
the　lock。　With　the　world　shut　out　（except　that　part　of　it　which　would
be　shut　in）；　with　its　troubles　and　disturbances　only　known　to　them　by
hearsay；　as　they　would　be　described　by　the　pilgrims　tarrying　with　them
on　their　way　to　the　Insolvent　Shrine；　with　the　Arbour　above；　and　the
Lodge　below；　they　would　glide　down　the　stream　of　time；　in　pastoral
domestic　happiness。　Young　John　drew　tears　from　his　eyes　by　finishing　the
picture　with　a　tombstone　in　the　adjoining　churchyard；　close　against　the
prison　wall；　bearing　the　following　touching　inscription：　'Sacred　to
the　Memory　Of　JOHN　CHIVERY；　Sixty　years　Turnkey；　and　fifty　years
Head　Turnkey；　Of　the　neighbouring　Marshalsea；　Who　departed　this　life；
universally　respected；　on　the　thirty…first　of　December；　One　thousand
eight　hundred　and　eighty…six；　Aged　eighty…three　years。　Also　of　his　truly
beloved　and　truly　loving　wife；　AMY；　whose　maiden　name　was　DORRIT；　Who
survived　his　loss　not　quite　forty…eight　hours；　And　who　breathed　her　last
in　the　Marshalsea　aforesaid。　There　she　was　born；　There　she　lived；　There
she　died。'

The　Chivery　parents　were　not　ignorant　of　their　son's　attachment……indeed
it　had；　on　some　exceptional　occasions；　thrown　him　into　a　state　of　mind
that　had　impelled　him　to　conduct　himself　with　irascibility　towards　the
customers；　and　damage　the　business……but　they；　in　their　turns；　had　worked
it　out　to　desirable　conclusions。　Mrs　Chivery；　a　prudent　woman；　had
desired　her　husband　to　take　notice　that　their　john's　prospects　of　the
Lock　would　certainly　be　strengt