正文预览

第5章 一无是处

　　'What is it about?' I continued. I hardly know where I found thehardihood thus to open a conversation with a stranger; the step wascontrary to my nature and habits: but I think her occupation touched achord of sympathy somewhere; for I too liked reading, though of afrivolous and childish kind; I could not digest or comprehend theserious or substantial.

　　'I live at the lodge: the old porter has left.'

　　'You are very cool! No! What! a novice not worship her priest! Thatsounds blasphemous.'

　　True, reader; and I knew and felt this: and though I am a defectivebeing, with many faults and few redeeming points, yet I never tired ofHelen Burns; nor ever ceased to cherish for her a sentiment ofattachment, as strong, tender, and respectful as any that everanimated my heart. How could it be otherwise, when Helen, at all timesand under all circumstances, evinced for me a quiet and faithfulfriendship, which ill-humour never soured, nor irritation nevertroubled? But Helen was ill at present: for some weeks she had beenremoved from my sight to I knew not what room upstairs. She was not, Iwas told, in the hospital portion of the house with the feverpatients; for her complaint was consumption, not typhus: and byconsumption I, in my ignorance, understood something mild, whichtime and care would be sure to alleviate.

　　'Is your name Eyre, Miss?'

　　The lady I had left might be about twenty-nine; the one who wentwith me appeared some years younger: the first impressed me by hervoice, look, and air. Miss Miller was more ordinary; ruddy incomplexion, though of a careworn countenance; hurried in gait andaction, like one who had always a multiplicity of tasks on hand: shelooked, indeed, what I afterwards found she really was, anunder-teacher. Led by her, I passed from compartment to compartment,from passage to passage, of a large and irregular building; till,emerging from the total and somewhat dreary silence pervading thatportion of the house we had traversed, we came upon the hum of manyvoices, and presently entered a wide, long room, with great dealtables, two at each end, on each of which burnt a pair of candles, andseated all round on benches, a congregation of girls of every age,from nine or ten to twenty. Seen by the dim light of the dips, theirnumber to me appeared countless, though not in reality exceedingeighty; they were uniformly dressed in bro

ng italive and capable of sensation. I could not sleep unless it was foldedin my night-gown; and when it lay there safe and warm, I wascomparatively happy, believing it to be happy likewise.

　　'Don't take them off,' I cried; 'I will not stir.'

　　'Yes, in a passive way: I make no effort; I follow as inclinationguides me. There is no merit in such goodness.'