迪文小说

第90部分（第1页）

rder。　Of　course；　St。　John　Rivers’　name　came　in　frequently　in　the　progress　of　my　tale。　When　I　had　done；　that　name　was　immediately　taken　up。

“This　St。　John；　then；　is　your　cousin？”

“Yes。”

“You　have　spoken　of　him　often：　do　you　like　him？”

“He　was　a　very　good　man；　sir；　I　could　not　help　liking　him。”

“A　good　man。　Does　that　mean　a　respectable　well…conducted　man　of　fifty？　Or　what　does　it　mean？”

“St　John　was　only　twenty…nine；　sir。”

“‘Jeune　encore；’　as　the　French　say。　Is　he　a　person　of　low　stature；　phlegmatic；　and　plain。　A　person　whose　goodness　consists　rather　in　his　guiltlessness　of　vice；　than　in　his　prowess　in　virtue。”

“He　is　untiringly　active。　Great　and　exalted　deeds　are　what　he　lives　to　perform。”

“But　his　brain？　That　is　probably　rather　soft？　He　means　well：　but　you　shrug　your　shoulders　to　hear　him　talk？”

“He　talks　little；　sir：　what　he　does　say　is　ever　to　the　point。　His　brain　is　first…rate；　I　should　think　not　impressible；　but　vigorous。”

“Is　he　an　able　man；　then？”

“Truly　able。”

“A　thoroughly　educated　man？”

“St。　John　is　an　acplished　and　profound　scholar。”

“His　manners；　I　think；　you　said　are　not　to　your　taste？—priggish　and　parsonic？”

“I　never　mentioned　his　manners；　but；　unless　I　had　a　very　bad　taste；　they　must　suit　it；　they　are　polished；　calm；　and　gentlemanlike。”

“His　appearance；—I　forget　what　description　you　gave　of　his　appearance；—a　sort　of　raw　curate；　half　strangled　with　his　white　neckcloth；　and　stilted　up　on　his　thick…soled　high…lows；　eh？”

“St。　John　dresses　well。　He　is　a　handsome　man：　tall；　fair；　with　blue　eyes；　and　a　Grecian　profile。”

（Aside。）　“Damn　him！”—（To　me。）　“Did　you　like　him；　Jane？”

“Yes；　Mr。　Rochester；　I　liked　him：　but　you　asked　me　that　before。”

I　perceived；　of　course；　the　drift　of　my　interlocutor。　Jealousy　had　got　hold　of　him：　she　stung　him；　but　the　sting　was　salutary：　it　gave　him　respite　from　the　gnawing　fang　of　melancholy。　I　would　not；　therefore；　immediately　charm　the　snake。

“Perhaps　you　would　rather　not　sit　any　longer　on　my　knee；　Miss　Eyre？”　was　the　next　somewhat　unexpected　observation。

“Why　not；　Mr。　Rochester？”

“The　picture　you　have　just　drawn　is　suggestive　of　a　rather　too　overwhelming　contrast。　Your　words　have　delineated　very　prettily　a　graceful　Apollo：　he　is　present　to　your　imagination；—tall；　fair；　blue…eyed；　and　with　a　Grecian　profile。　Your　eyes　dwell　on　a　Vulcan；—a　real　blacksmith；　brown；　broad…shouldered：　and　blind　and　lame　into　the　bargain。”

“I　never　thought　of　it；　before；　but　you　certainly　are　rather　like　Vulcan；　sir。”

“Well；　you　can　leave　me；　ma’am：　but　before　you　go”　（and　he　retained　me　by　a　firmer　grasp　than　ever）；　“you　will　be　pleased　just　to　answer　me　a　question　or　two。”　He　paused。

“r。　Rochester？”

Then　followed　this　cross…examination。

“St。　John　made　you　schoolmistress　of　Morton　before　he　knew　you　were　his　cousin？”

“Yes。”

“You　would　often　see　him？　He　would　visit　the　school　sometimes？”

“Daily。”