david copperfield(大卫.科波维尔)-第117章

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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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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。　Don’t　
you　think　so？’　

I　hazarded　a　bold　flight；　and　said　（not　without　stammering）　that　
it　was　very　bright　to　me　then；　though　it　had　been　very　dark　to　me　a　
minute　before。　

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‘Do　you　mean　a　compliment？’　said　Dora；　‘or　that　the　weather　
has　really　changed？’　

I　stammered　worse　than　before；　in　replying　that　I　meant　no　
compliment；　but　the　plain　truth；　though　I　was　not　aware　of　any　
change　having　taken　place　in　the　weather。　It　was　in　the　state　of　my　
own　feelings；　I　added　bashfully：　to　clench　the　explanation。　

I　never　saw　such　curls—how　could　I；　for　there　never　were　such　
curls！—as　those　she　shook　out　to　hide　her　blushes。　As　to　the　straw　
hat　and　blue　ribbons　which　was　on　the　top　of　the　curls；　if　I　could　
only　have　hung　it　up　in　my　room　in　Buckingham　Street；　what　a　
priceless　possession　it　would　have　been！　

‘You　have　just　come　home　from　Paris；’　said　I。　

‘Yes；’　said　she。　‘Have　you　ever　been　there？’　

‘No。’　

‘Oh！　I　hope　you’ll　go　soon！　You　would　like　it　so　much！’　

Traces　of　deep…seated　anguish　appeared　in　my　countenance。　
That　she　should　hope　I　would　go；　that　she　should　think　it　possible　
I　could　go；　was　insupportable。　I　depreciated　Paris；　I　depreciated　
France。　I　said　I　wouldn’t　leave　England；　under　existing　
circumstances；　for　any　earthly　consideration。　Nothing　should　
induce　me。　In　short；　she　was　shaking　the　curls　again；　when　the　
little　dog　came　running　along　the　walk　to　our　relief。　

He　was　mortally　jealous　of　me；　and　persisted　in　barking　at　me。　
She　took　him　up　in　her　arms—oh　my　goodness！—and　caressed　
him；　but　he　persisted　upon　barking　still。　He　wouldn’t　let　me　touch　
him；　when　I　tried；　and　then　she　beat　him。　It　increased　my　
sufferings　greatly　to　see　the　pats　she　gave　him　for　punishment　on　
the　bridge　of　his　blunt　nose；　while　he　winked　his　eyes；　and　licked　
her　hand；　and　still　growled　within　himself　like　a　little　double…bass。　

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At　length　he　was　quiet—well　he　might　be　with　her　dimpled　chin　
upon　his　head！—and　we　walked　away　to　look　at　a　greenhouse。　

‘You　are　not　very　intimate　with　Miss　Murdstone；　are　you？’　said　
Dora。—　‘My　pet。’　

（The　two　last　words　were　to　the　dog。　Oh；　if　they　had　only　been　
to　me！）　

‘No；’　I　replied。　‘Not　at　all　so。’　

‘She　is　a　tiresome　creature；’　said　Dora；　pouting。　‘I　can’t　think　
what　papa　can　have　been　about；　when　he　chose　such　a　vexatious　
thing　to　be　my　companion。　Who　wants　a　protector？　I　am　sure　I　
don’t　want　a　protector。　Jip　can　protect　me　a　great　deal　better　than　
Miss　Murdstone；—can’t　you；　Jip；　dear？’　

He　only　winked　lazily；　when　she　kissed　his　ball　of　a　head。　

‘Papa　calls　her　my　confidential　friend；　but　I　am　sure　she　is　no　
such　thing—is　she；　Jip？　We　are　not　going　to　confide　in　any　such　
cross　people；　Jip　and　I。　We　mean　to　bestow　our　confidence　where　
we　like；　and　to　find　out　our　own　friends；　instead　of　having　them　
found　out　for　us—don’t　we；　Jip？’　

jip　made　a　comfortable　noise；　in　answer；　a　little　like　a　tea…kettle　
when　it　sings。　As　for　me；　every　word　was　a　new　heap　of　fetters；　
riveted　above　the　last。　

‘It　is　very　hard；　because　we　have　not　a　kind　Mama；　that　we　are　
to　have；　instead；　a　sulky；　gloomy　old　thing　like　Miss　Murdstone；　
always　following　us　about—isn’t　it；　Jip？　Never　mind；　Jip。　We　won’t　
be　confidential；　and　we’ll　make　ourselves　as　happy　as　we　can　in　
spite　of　her；　and　we’ll　tease　her；　and　not　please　her—won’t　we；　
Jip？’　

If　it　had　lasted　any　longer；　I　think　I　must　have　gone　down　on　my　
knees　on　the　gravel；　with　the　probability　before　me　of　grazing　

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them；　and　of　being　presently　ejected　from　the　premises　besides。　
But；　by　good　fortune　the　greenhouse　was　not　far　off；　and　these　
words　brought　us　to　it。　

It　contained　quite　a　show　of　beautiful　geraniums。　We　loitered　
along　in　front　of　them；　and　Dora　often　stopped　to　admire　this　one　
or　that　one；　and　I　stopped　to　admire　the　same　one；　and　Dora；　
laughing；　held　the　dog　up　childishly；　to　smell　the　flowers；　and　if　we　
were　not　all　three　in　Fairyland；　certainly　I　was。　The　scent　of　a　
geranium　leaf；　at　this　day；　strikes　me　with　a　half　comical　half　
serious　wonder　as　to　what　change　has　come　over　me　in　a　moment；　
and　then　I　see　a　straw　hat　and　blue　ribbons；　and　a　quantity　of　
curls；　and　a　little　black　dog　being　held　up；　in　two　slender　arms；　
against　a　bank　of　blossoms　and　bright　leaves。　

Miss　Murdstone　had　been　looking　for　us。　She　found　us　here；　
and　presented　her　uncongenial　cheek；　the　little　wrinkles　in　it　filled　
with　hair　powder；　to　Dora　to　be　kissed。　Then　she　took　Dora’s　arm　
in　hers；　and　marched　us　into　breakfast　as　if　it　were　a　soldier’s　
funeral。　

How　many　cups　of　tea　I　drank；　because　Dora　made　it；　I　don’t　
know。　But；　I　perfectly　remember　that　I　sat　swilling　tea　until　my　
whole　nervous　system；　if　I　had　had　any　in　those　days；　must　have　
gone　by　the　board。　By　and　by　we　went　to　church。　Miss　Murdstone　
was　between　Dora　and　me　in　the　pew；　but　I　heard　her　sing；　and　
the　congregation　vanished。　A　sermon　was　delivered—about　Dora；　
of　course—and　I　am　afraid　that　is　all　I　know　of　the　service。　

We　had　a　quiet　day。　No　company；　a　walk；　a　family　dinner　of　
four；　and　an　evening　of　looking　over　books　and　pictures；　Miss　
Murdstone　with　a　homily　before　her；　and　her　eye　upon　us；　keeping　
guard　vigilantly。　Ah！　little　did　Mr。　Spenlow　imagine；　when　he　sat　

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opposite　to　me　after　dinner　that　day；　with　his　pocket…handkerchief　
over　his　head；　how　fervently　I　was　embracing　him；　in　my　fancy；　as　
his　son…in…law！　Little　did　he　think；　when　I　took　leave　of　him　at　
night；　that　he　had　just　given　his　full　consent　to　my　being　engaged　
to　Dora；　and　that　I　was　invoking　blessings　on　his　head！　

We　departed　early　in　the　morning；　for　we　had　a　Salvage　case　
coming　on　in　the　Admiralty　Court；　requiring　a　rather　acc