雙語·面紗 第七十九章

Kitty rang the bell at the house in Harrington Gardens. She was told that her father was in his study and going to the door she opened it softly: he was sitting by the fire reading the last edition of the evening paper. He looked up as she entered, put down the paper, and sprang nervously to his feet.

“Oh, Kitty, I didn't expect you till the later train.”

“I thought you wouldn't want the bother of coming to meet me so I didn't wire the time I expected to arrive.”

He gave her his cheek to kiss in the manner she so well remembered.

“I was just having a look at the paper,” he said. “I haven't read the paper for the last two days.”

She saw that he thought it needed some explanation if he occupied himself with the ordinary affairs of life.

“Of course,” she said. “You must be tired out, I'm afraid mother's death has been a great shock to you.”

He was older and thinner than when she had last seen him. A little, lined, dried-up man, with a precise manner.

“The surgeon said there had never been any hope. She hadn't been herself for more than a year, but she refused to see a doctor. The surgeon told me that she must have been in constant pain, he said it was a miracle that she had been able to endure it.”

“Did she never complain?”

“She said she wasn't very well. But she never complained of pain.” He paused and looked at Kitty. “Are you very tired after your journey?”

“Not very.”

“Would you like to go up and see her?”

“Is she here?”

“Yes, she was brought here from the nursing home.”

“Yes, I'll go now.”

“Would you like me to come with you?

There was something in her father's tone that made her look at him quickly. His face was slightly turned from her; he did not want her to catch his eye. Kitty had acquired of late a singular proficiency at reading the thoughts of others. After all, day after day she had applied all her sensibilities to divine from a casual word or an unguarded gesture the hidden thoughts of her husband. She guessed at once what her father was trying to hide from her. It was relief he felt, an infinite relief, and he was frightened of himself. For hard on thirty years he had been a good and faithful husband, he had never uttered a single word in dispraise of his wife, and now he should grieve for her. He had always done the things that were expected of him. It would have been shocking to him by the flicker of an eyelid or by the smallest hint to betray that he did not feel what under the circumstances a bereaved husband should feel.

“No, I would rather go by myself,” said Kitty.

She went upstairs and into the large, cold and pretentious bedroom in which her mother for so many years had slept. She remembered so well those massive pieces of mahogany and the engravings after Marcus Stone which adorned the walls. The things on the dressing-table were arranged with the stiff precision which Mrs. Garstin had all her life insisted upon. The flowers looked out of place; Mrs. Garstin would have thought it silly, affected, and unhealthy to have flowers in her bedroom. Their perfume did not cover that acrid, musty smell, as of freshly washed linen, which Kitty remembered as characteristic of her mother's room.

Mrs. Garstin lay on the bed, her hands folded across her breasts with a meekness which in life she would have had no patience with. With her strong sharp features, the cheeks hollow with suffering and the temples sunken, she looked handsome and even imposing. Death had robbed her face of its meanness and left only an impression of character. She might have been a Roman empress. It was strange to Kitty that of the dead persons she had seen this was the only one who in death seemed to preserve a look as though that clay had been once a habitation of the spirit. Grief she could not feel, for there had been too much bitterness between her mother and herself to leave in her heart any deep feeling of affection; and looking back on the girl she had been she knew that it was her mother who had made her what she was. But when she looked at that hard, domineering and ambitious woman who lay there so still and silent with all her petty aims frustrated by death, she was aware of a vague pathos. She had schemed and intrigued all her life and never had she desired anything but what was base and unworthy. Kitty wondered whether perhaps in some other sphere she looked upon her earthly course with consternation.

Doris came in.

“I thought you'd come by this train. I felt I must look in for a moment. Isn't it dreadful? Poor darling mother.”

Bursting into tears, she flung herself into Kitty's arms. Kitty kissed her. She knew how her mother had neglected Doris in favor of her and how harsh she had been with her because she was plain and dull. She wondered whether Doris really felt the extravagant grief she showed. But Doris had always been emotional. She wished she could cry: Doris would think her dreadfully hard. Kitty felt that she had been through too much to feign a distress she did not feel.

“Would you like to come and see father?” she asked her when the strength of the outburst had somewhat subsided.

Doris wiped her eyes. Kitty noticed that her sister's pregnancy had blunted her features and in her black dress she looked gross and blousy.

“No, I don't think I will. I shall only cry again. Poor old thing, he's bearing it wonderfully.”

Kitty showed her sister out of the house and then went back to her father. He was standing in front of the fire and the newspaper was neatly folded. He wanted her to see that he had not been reading it again.

“I haven't dressed for dinner,” he said. “I didn't think it was necessary.”

凱蒂按響了位于哈靈頓花園父母家的門鈴。仆人告訴她，她的父親在書房。她走到書房的門前，輕輕地把它推開，他正坐在火爐旁讀上一期的晚報(bào)。當(dāng)她進(jìn)來的時(shí)候，他抬起頭，放下了報(bào)紙，吃驚地跳了起來。

“噢，凱蒂，我以為你會(huì)乘下一班火車。”

“我想讓您不要費(fèi)事去接我，所以我沒有給你拍電報(bào)告訴你到達(dá)的時(shí)間。”

他親了親她的臉頰，親吻的動(dòng)作她還清晰地記得和以前一模一樣。

“我剛才想看看報(bào)紙?！彼f道，“我還沒讀最近兩天的報(bào)紙?！?/p>

她看出來了，如果這個(gè)時(shí)候，他還被日常生活的瑣事所占據(jù)，他想需要做一些解釋。

“當(dāng)然?！彼f道，“您一定累壞了，我想母親的去世對(duì)您的打擊很大?！?/p>

比起最后一次見到他，父親更老，也更瘦了。一個(gè)矮小、瘦削、枯干的小老頭，但仍帶著一絲嚴(yán)謹(jǐn)?shù)膽B(tài)度。

“醫(yī)生說沒有任何的希望，她其實(shí)已經(jīng)病了一年多了，但是她拒絕看醫(yī)生。醫(yī)生告訴我說，她一定在持續(xù)不斷地疼痛，他還說她竟然能夠忍受下來，真是個(gè)奇跡?！?/p>

“她從沒講過她的病情嗎？”

“她說她覺得不太舒服。但是她沒說過疼痛?！彼Ｏ聛恚粗鴦P蒂，“旅途勞頓，你一定很累了吧？”

“不太累?！?/p>

“你想上樓去看看她嗎？”

“她在家里？”

“是的，已經(jīng)從醫(yī)院拉回家了?！?/p>

“好的，我現(xiàn)在就去?！?/p>

“你想讓我陪你去嗎？”

在她父親的口吻中有某種東西讓她覺得奇怪，她很快地看了看他，他把臉悄悄扭到了一邊，不想讓她看到自己的眼睛。凱蒂最近練就了一項(xiàng)非凡的技能，能夠讀出別人的想法——畢竟，一天又一天，她已經(jīng)應(yīng)用所有識(shí)別力來偵測來自她丈夫的每一句隨意說出的話或者不帶防范的動(dòng)作，挖出其背后隱藏的想法——她立刻猜到了她父親試圖躲避她的原因。他覺得是一種解脫，一種無限的解脫，自己也嚇了一跳。多不容易呀，三十年來他一直是個(gè)善良和忠誠的丈夫，他從沒說過一個(gè)字來指責(zé)妻子，現(xiàn)在他應(yīng)該為她感到悲痛。他總是本本分分地做別人期望他做的事情。但這次作為一個(gè)承受著喪妻之痛的丈夫本來應(yīng)該有的感情他卻沒有，無論是眨一下眼皮或最微小的舉動(dòng)都背叛了他原來的形象，這讓他自己也感到震驚。

“不了，我愿意自己一個(gè)人去?！眲P蒂說道。

她上了樓，走進(jìn)一間寬敞、陰冷、俗麗的房間，這是她母親睡了多年的臥室。她清楚記得那些大號(hào)的紅木家具，記得墻壁上鑲嵌的模仿馬庫斯·斯通畫作的浮雕。梳妝臺(tái)上的東西都一板一眼地完全按照賈斯汀夫人堅(jiān)持多年的位置擺放著。鮮花看上去放的不是地方，因?yàn)橘Z斯汀夫人會(huì)認(rèn)為，在臥室里放花是愚蠢的，不健康的，人是會(huì)受影響的?；ǖ南銡鉀]有遮蓋住刺鼻和發(fā)霉的味道，就像新洗過的亞麻布，凱蒂記得這是她母親房間所獨(dú)有的氣味。

賈斯汀夫人就躺在床上，雙手交叉放在胸前，一副溫順的樣子，而在生前她總是很不耐煩的模樣。她的五官棱角分明，臉頰由于疾病的折磨已經(jīng)清瘦異常，太陽穴也凹陷下去了，但看上去長相依然端正，甚至能讓人印象深刻。死亡已經(jīng)奪走了她的尖酸刻薄，而只留下了她性格中威嚴(yán)的一面，就像一位羅馬女皇。凱蒂覺得驚詫，在她所見過的死去的人中，只有她母親似乎才具有這樣的神態(tài)，在軀殼上再一次賦予了曾寄居在里面的靈魂。她沒有感到悲傷，因?yàn)樗湍赣H之間曾經(jīng)有著太多的不愉快，她在心里對(duì)她沒有太深的感情，而且回想她做姑娘時(shí)，正是她的母親一手造成了她今天的樣子。但是，當(dāng)她看到這個(gè)一度冷酷、強(qiáng)勢和野心勃勃的女人如今未竟夙愿卻靜靜地躺在這里，不免感到一種隱約的傷感。她的母親聰明一生，算計(jì)一世，可沒有想到她所追求的不過是些低級(jí)趣味和毫無價(jià)值的東西，凱蒂懷疑也許在另一個(gè)世界里，她母親看到自己在塵世走過的一生，也會(huì)感到驚愕。

多瑞絲這時(shí)走了進(jìn)來。

“我想你會(huì)坐這趟火車回來，所以得過來看一下。是不是很可怕呀？可憐的母親。”

多瑞絲抱著凱蒂放聲大哭，凱蒂親吻著她。她知道母親喜歡她，往往忽略多瑞絲，而且因?yàn)槎嗳鸾z木訥、相貌平平而對(duì)她非?？量獭P蒂心里想，是不是多瑞絲自己也覺得所流露出的悲傷太過夸張。但是，多瑞絲總是感情外露，也多愁善感。凱蒂希望自己也能哭出來，要不多瑞絲會(huì)認(rèn)為她真的鐵石心腸，可凱蒂覺得自己經(jīng)歷了太多的痛苦，無法偽裝自己并沒有感到的悲傷。

“你愿意去書房看看父親嗎？”她放棄了想與多瑞絲抱頭痛哭的努力，問道。

多瑞絲擦干了眼淚，凱蒂注意到懷孕已經(jīng)使她妹妹的身子顯得笨重。多瑞絲穿著黑色的衣服，臉上長著紅斑，看著很邋遢。

“不了，我還是不去了，否則我該哭了?？蓱z的老父親，他挺堅(jiān)強(qiáng)的?！?/p>

凱蒂把妹妹送出了門，然后又回到父親身邊。他正站在火爐前，報(bào)紙整齊地疊著，他想讓她看到他沒有再讀報(bào)紙了。

“我還沒換吃晚飯的衣服?！彼f道，“我覺得沒必要了?！?/p>