little dorrit-信丽(英文版)-第139章

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hers！

But　what　I　particularly　want　you　to　know；　and　why　I　have　resolved
to　tell　you　so　much　while　I　am　afraid　it　may　make　you　a　little
unfortable　without　occasion；　is　this。　She　is　so　true　and　so　devoted；
and　knows　so　pletely　that　all　her　love　and　duty　are　his　for　ever；
that　you　may　be　certain　she　will　love　him；　admire　him；　praise　him；　and
conceal　all　his　faults；　until　she　dies。　I　believe　she　conceals　them；　and
always　will　conceal　them；　even　from　herself。

She　has　given　him　a　heart　that　can　never　be　taken　back；　and　however　much
he　may　try　it；　he　will　never　wear　out　its　affection。　You　know　the　truth
of　this；　as　you　know　everything；　far　far　better　than　I；　but　I　cannot
help　telling　you　what　a　nature　she　shows；　and　that　you　can　never　think
too　well　of　her。

I　have　not　yet　called　her　by　her　name　in　this　letter；　but　we　are　such
friends　now　that　I　do　so　when　we　are　quietly　together；　and　she　speaks　to
me　by　my　name……I　mean；　not　my　Christian　name；　but　the　name　you　gave　me。
When　she　began　to　call　me　Amy；　I　told　her　my　short　story；　and　that　you
had　always　called　me　Little　Dorrit。　I　told　her　that　the　name　was　much
dearer　to　me　than　any　other；　and　so　she　calls　me　Little　Dorrit　too。

Perhaps　you　have　not　heard　from　her　father　or　mother　yet；　and　may　not
know　that　she　has　a　baby　son。　He　was　born　only　two　days　ago；　and　just　a
week　after　they　came。　It　has　made　them　very　happy。　However；　I　must　tell
you；　as　I　am　to　tell　you　all；　that　I　fancy　they　are　under　a　constraint
with　Mr　Gowan；　and　that　they　feel　as　if　his　mocking　way　with　them　was
sometimes　a　slight　given　to　their　love　for　her。　It　was　but　yesterday；
when　I　was　there；　that　I　saw　Mr　Meagles　change　colour；　and　get　up　and
go　out；　as　if　he　was　afraid　that　he　might　say　so；　unless　he　prevented
himself　by　that　means。　Yet　I　am　sure　they　are　both　so　considerate；
good…humoured；　and　reasonable；　that　he　might　spare　them。　It　is　hard　in
him　not　to　think　of　them　a　little　more。

I　stopped　at　the　last　full　stop　to　read　all　this　over。　It　looked　at
first　as　if　I　was　taking　on　myself　to　understand　and　explain　so　much；
that　I　was　half　inclined　not　to　send　it。　But　when　I　thought　it　over　a
little；　I　felt　more　hopeful　for　your　knowing　at　once　that　I　had　only
been　watchful　for　you；　and　had　only　noticed　what　I　think　I　have　noticed；
because　I　was　quickened　by　your　interest　in　it。　Indeed；　you　may　be　sure
that　is　the　truth。

And　now　I　have　done　with　the　subject　in　the　present　letter；　and　have
little　left　to　say。

We　are　all　quite　well；　and　Fanny　improves　every　day。　You　can　hardly
think　how　kind　she　is　to　me；　and　what　pains　she　takes　with　me。　She　has
a　lover；　who　has　followed　her；　first　all　the　way　from　Switzerland；　and
then　all　the　way　from　Venice；　and　who　has　just　confided　to　me　that　he
means　to　follow　her　everywhere。　I　was　much　confused　by　his　speaking　to
me　about　it；　but　he　would。　I　did　not　know　what　to　say；　but　at　last　I
told　him　that　I　thought　he　had　better　not。　For　Fanny　（but　I　did　not　tell
him　this）　is　much　too　spirited　and　clever　to　suit　him。　Still；　he　said　he
would；　all　the　same。　I　have　no　lover；　of　course。

If　you　should　ever　get　so　far　as　this　in　this　long　letter；　you　will
perhaps　say；　Surely　Little　Dorrit　will　not　leave　off　without　telling　me
something　about　her　travels；　and　surely　it　is　time　she　did。　I　think　it
is　indeed；　but　I　don't　know　what　to　tell　you。　Since　we　left　Venice　we
have　been　in　a　great　many　wonderful　places；　Genoa　and　Florence　among
them；　and　have　seen　so　many　wonderful　sights；　that　I　am　almost　giddy
when　I　think　what　a　crowd　they　make。

But　you　can　tell　me　so　much　more　about　them　than　I　can　tell　you；　that
why　should　I　tire　you　with　my　accounts　and　descriptions？

Dear　Mr　Clennam；　as　I　had　the　courage　to　tell　you　what　the　familiar
difficulties　in　my　travelling　mind　were　before；　I　will　not　be　a　coward
now。　One　of　my　frequent　thoughts　is　this：……Old　as　these　cities　are；
their　age　itself　is　hardly　so　curious；　to　my　reflections；　as　that　they
should　have　been　in　their　places　all　through　those　days　when　I　did　not
even　know　of　the　existence　of　more　than　two　or　three　of　them；　and　when
I　scarcely　knew　of　anything　outside　our　old　walls。　There　is　something
melancholy　in　it；　and　I　don't　know　why。　When　we　went　to　see　the　famous
leaning　tower　at　Pisa；　it　was　a　bright　sunny　day；　and　it　and　the
buildings　near　it　looked　so　old；　and　the　earth　and　the　sky　looked　so
young；　and　its　shadow　on　the　ground　was　so　soft　and　retired！　I　could　not
at　first　think　how　beautiful　it　was；　or　how　curious；　but　I　thought；　'O
how　many　times　when　the　shadow　of　the　wall　was　falling　on　our　room；　and
when　that　weary　tread　of　feet　was　going　up　and　down　the　yard……O　how　many
times　this　place　was　just　as　quiet　and　lovely　as　it　is　to…day！'　It　quite
overpowered　me。　My　heart　was　so　full　that　tears　burst　out　of　my　eyes；
though　I　did　what　I　could　to　restrain　them。　And　I　have　the　same　feeling
often……often。

Do　you　know　that　since　the　change　in　our　fortunes；　though　I　appear　to
myself　to　have　dreamed　more　than　before；　I　have　always　dreamed　of　myself
as　very　young　indeed！　I　am　not　very　old；　you　may　say。　No；　but　that　is
not　what　I　mean。　I　have　always　dreamed　of　myself　as　a　child　learning
to　do　needlework。　I　have　often　dreamed　of　myself　as　back　there；　seeing
faces　in　the　yard　little　known；　and　which　I　should　have　thought　I　had
quite　forgotten；　but；　as　often　as　not；　I　have　been　abroad　here……in
Switzerland；　or　France；　or　Italy……somewhere　where　we　have　been……yet
always　as　that　little　child。　I　have　dreamed　of　going　down　to　Mrs
General；　with　the　patches　on　my　clothes　in　which　I　can　first　remember
myself。　I　have　over　and　over　again　dreamed　of　taking　my　place　at　dinner
at　Venice　when　we　have　had　a　large　pany；　in　the　mourning　for　my　poor
mother　which　I　wore　when　I　was　eight　years　old；　and　wore　long　after　it
was　threadbare　and　would　mend　no　more。　It　has　been　a　great　distress　to
me　to　think　how　irreconcilable　the　pany　would　consider　it　with　my
father's　wealth；　and　how　I　should　displease　and　disgrace　him　and　Fanny
and　Edward　by　so　plainly　disclosing　what　they　wished　to　keep　secret。　But
I　have　not　grown　out　of　the　little　child　in　thinking　of　it；　and　at　the
self…same　moment　I　have　dreamed　that　I　have　sat　with　the　heart…ache　at
table；　calculating　the　expenses　of　the　dinner；　and　quite　distracting
myself　with　thinking　how　they　were　ever　to　be　made　good。　I　have　never
dreamed　of　the　change　in　our　fortunes　itself；　I　have　never　dreamed　of
your　ing　back　with　me　that　memorable　morning　to　break　it；　I　have
never　even　dreamed　of　you。

Dear　Mr　Clennam；　it　is　possible　that　I　have　thought　of　you……and
others……so　much　by　day；　that　I　have　no　thoughts　left　to　wander　round
you　by　night。　For　I　must　now　confess　to　you　that　I　suffer　from
home…sickness……that　I　long　so　ardently　and　earnestly　for　home；　as
sometimes；　when　no　one　sees　me；　to　pine　for　it。　I　cannot　bear　to　turn　my
face　further　away　from　it。　My　heart　is　a　little　lightened　when　we　turn
towards　it；　even　for　a　few　miles；　and　with　the　knowledge　that　we　are
soon　to　turn　away　again。　So　dearly　do　I　love　the　scene　of　my　poverty　and
your　kindness。　O　so　dearly；　O　so　dearly！

Heaven　knows　when　your　poor　child　will　see　England　again。　We　are　all
fond　of　the　life　here　（except　me）；　and　there　are　no　plans　for　our
return。　My　dear　father　talks　of　a　visit　to　London　late　in　this　next
spring；　on　some　affairs　connected　with　the　property；　but　I　have　no　hope
that　he　will　bring　me　with　him。

I　have　tried　to　get　on　a　little　better　under　Mrs　General's　instruction；
and　I　hope　I　am　not　quite　so　dull　as　I　used　to　be。　I　have　begun　to　speak
and　understand；　almost　easily；　the　hard　languages　I　told　you　about。　I
did　not　remember；　at　the　moment　when　I　wrote　last；　that　you　knew　them
both；　but　I　remembered　it　afterwards；　and　it　helped　me　on。　God　bless
you；　dear　Mr　Clennam。　Do　not　forget　your　ever　grateful　and　affectionate

LITTLE　DORRIT。

P。S。……Particularly　remember　that　Minnie　Gowan　deserves　the　best
remembrance　in　which　you　can　hold　her。　You　cannot　think　too　generously
or　too　highly　of　her。　I　forgot　Mr　Pancks　last　time。　Please；　if　you
should　see　him；　give　him　your　Little　Dorrit's　kind　regard。　He　was　very
good　to　Little　D。




CHAPTER　12。　In　which　a　Great　Patriotic　Conference　is　holden


The　famous　name　of　Merdle　became；　every　day；　more　famous　in　the　land。
Nobody　knew　that　the　Merdle　of　such　high　renown　had　ever　done　any　good
to　any　one；　alive　or　dead；　or　to　any　earthly　thing；　nobody　knew　that　he
had　any　capacity　or　utterance　of　any　sort　in　him；　which　had　ever　thrown；
for　any　creature；　the　feeblest　farthing…candle　ray　of　light　on　any　path
of　duty　or　diversion；　pain　or　pleasure；　toil　or　rest；　fact　or　fancy；
among　the　multiplicity　of　paths　in　the　labyrinth　trodden　by　the　sons
of　Adam；　nobody　had　the　smallest　reason　for　supposing　the　clay　of　which
this　object　of　worship　was　made；　to　be　other　than　the　monest　clay；
with　as　clogged　a　wick　smouldering　inside　of　it　as　ever　kept　an　image　of
humanity　from　tumbling　to　pieces。　All　people　knew　（or　thought　they　knew）
that　he　had　made　himself　immensely　rich；　and；　for　that　reason　alone；
prostrated　themselves　before　him；　more　degradedly　and　less　excusably
than　the　darkest　savage　cree