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MIDDLEMARCH-Part89_GEORGE ELIOT(1819-1880)_English Literature(文学)-第2页

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When the strange idea flashed across her that his words had reference

to himself, she was incredulous, and ashamed of entertaining it.



She had never thought that any man could love her except Fred,

who had espoused her with the umbrella ring, when she wore socks



and little strapped shoes; still less that she could be of any

importance to Mr. Farebrother, the cleverest man in her narrow circle.



She had only time to feel that all this was hazy and perhaps illusory;

but one thing was clear and determined--her answer.



"Since you think it my duty, Mr. Farebrother, I will tell you

that I have too strong a feeling for Fred to give him up for any



one else. I should never be quite happy if I thought he was

unhappy for the loss of me. It has taken such deep root in me--



my gratitude to him for always loving me best, and minding so much

if I hurt myself, from the time when we were very little. I cannot



imagine any new feeling coming to make that weaker. I should like

better than anything to see him worthy of every one's respect.



But please tell him I will not promise to marry him till then:

I should shame and grieve my father and mother. He is free to choose



some one else."

"Then I have fulfilled my commissionthoroughly,"



said Mr. Farebrother, putting out his hand to Mary,

"and I shall ride back to Middlemarch forthwith. With this



prospect before him, we shall get Fred into the right niche

somehow, and I hope I shall live to join your hands. God bless you!"



"Oh, please stay, and let me give you some tea," said Mary.

Her eyes filled with tears, for something indefinable, something like



the resolute suppression of a pain in Mr. Farebrother's manner,

made her feel suddenly miserable, as she had once felt when she saw



her father's hands trembling in a moment of trouble.

"No, my dear, no. I must get back."



In three minutes the Vicar was on horseback again, having gone

magnanimously through a duty much harder than the renunciation



of whist, or even than the writing of penitential meditations.

CHAPTER LIII.



It is but a shallow haste which concludeth insincerity from what

outsiders call inconsistency--putting a dead mechanism of "ifs"



and "therefores" for the living myriad of hidden suckers whereby

the belief and the conduct are wrought into mutual sustainment.



Mr. Bulstrode, when he was hoping to acquire a new interest in Lowick,

had naturally had an especial wish that the new clergyman should be one



whom he thoroughly approved; and he believed it to be a chastisement

and admonition directed to his own shortcomings and those of the nation



at large, that just about the time when he came in possession of the

deeds which made him the proprietor of Stone Court, Mr. Farebrother



"read himself" into the quaint little church and preached his first

sermon to the congregation of farmers, laborers, and village artisans.



It was not that Mr. Bulstrode intended to frequent Lowick Church

or to reside at Stone Court for a good while to come: he had



bought the excellent farm and fine homestead simply as a retreat

which he might gradually enlarge as to the land and beautify as



to the dwelling, until it should be conducive to the divine glory

that he should enter on it as a residence, partially withdrawing



from his present exertions in the administration of business,

and throwing more conspicuously on the side of Gospel truth the weight



of local landed proprietorship, which Providence might increase by

unforeseen occasions of purchase. A strong leading in this direction



seemed to have been given in the surprisingfacility of getting

Stone Court, when every one had expected that Mr. Rigg Featherstone



would have clung to it as the Garden of Eden. That was what poor

old Peter himself had expected; having often, in imagination,



looked up through the sods above him, and, unobstructed by.

perspective, seen his frog-faced legatee enjoying the fine



old place to the perpetual surprise and disappointment of other survivors.

But how little we know what would make paradise for our neighbors!



We judge from our own desires, and our neighbors themselves

are not always open enough even to throw out a hint of theirs.



The cool and judicious Joshua Rigg had not allowed his parent

to perceive that Stone Court was anything less than the chief good






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