adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第123章
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shame was torture。 That was poor little Hetty’s conscience。
So she locked up her drawer and went away to her early work。
In the evening； when Mr。 Poyser was smoking his pipe； and his
good…nature was therefore at its superlative moment； Hetty seized
the opportunity of her aunt’s absence to say； “Uncle； I wish you’d
let me go for a lady’s maid。”
Mr。 Poyser took the pipe from his mouth and looked at Hetty in
mild surprise for some moments。 She was sewing； and went on
with her work industriously。
“Why； what’s put that into your head； my wench？” he said at
last； after he had given one conservative puff。
“I should like it—I should like it better than farm…work。”
“Nay； nay； you fancy so because you donna know it； my wench。
It wouldn’t be half so good for your health； nor for your luck i’ life。
I’d like you to stay wi’ us till you’ve got a good husband： you’re my
own niece； and I wouldn’t have you go to service； though it was a
gentleman’s house； as long as I’ve got a home for you。”
Mr。 Poyser paused； and puffed away at his pipe。
“I like the needlework；” said Hetty； “and I should get good
wages。”
“Has your aunt been a bit sharp wi’ you？” said Mr。 Poyser； not
noticing Hetty’s further argument。 “You mustna mind that； my
wench—she does it for your good。 She wishes you well； an’ there
isn’t many aunts as are no kin to you ’ud ha’ done by you as she
has。”
“No； it isn’t my aunt；” said Hetty； “but I should like the work
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better。”
“It was all very well for you to learn the work a bit—an’ I gev
my consent to that fast enough； sin’ Mrs。 Pomfret was willing to
teach you。 For if anything was t’ happen； it’s well to know how to
turn your hand to different sorts o’ things。 But I niver meant you
to go to service； my wench； my family’s ate their own bread and
cheese as fur back as anybody knows； hanna they； Father？ You
wouldna like your grand…child to take wage？”
“Na…a…y；” said old Martin； with an elongation of the word；
meant to make it bitter as well as negative； while he leaned
forward and looked down on the floor。 “But the wench takes arter
her mother。 I’d hard work t’ hould her in； an’ she married i’ spite o’
me—a feller wi’ on’y two head o’ stock when there should ha’ been
ten on’s farm—she might well die o’ th’ inflammation afore she
war thirty。”
It was seldom the old man made so long a speech； but his son’s
question had fallen like a bit of dry fuel on the embers of a long
unextinguished resentment； which had always made the
grandfather more indifferent to Hetty than to his son’s children。
Her mother’s fortune had been spent by that good…for…nought
Sorrel； and Hetty had Sorrel’s blood in her veins。
“Poor thing； poor thing！” said Martin the younger； who was
sorry to have provoked this retrospective harshness。 “She’d but
bad luck。 But Hetty’s got as good a chance o’ getting a solid； sober
husband as any gell i’ this country。”
After throwing out this pregnant hint； Mr。 Poyser recurred to
his pipe and his silence； looking at Hetty to see if she did not give
some sign of having renounced her ill…advised wish。 But instead of
that； Hetty； in spite of herself； began to cry； half out of ill temper at
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the denial； half out of the day’s repressed sadness。
“Hegh； hegh！” said Mr。 Poyser； meaning to check her playfully；
“don’t let’s have any crying。 Crying’s for them as ha’ got no home；
not for them as want to get rid o’ one。 What dost think？” he
continued to his wife； who now came back into the house…place；
knitting with fierce rapidity； as if that movement were a necessary
function； like the twittering of a crab’s antennae。
“Think？ Why； I think we shall have the fowl stole before we are
much older； wi’ that gell forgetting to lock the pens up o’ nights。
What’s the matter now； Hetty？ What are you crying at？”
“Why； she’s been wanting to go for a lady’s maid；” said Mr。
Poyser。 “I tell her we can do better for her nor that。”
“I thought she’d got some maggot in her head； she’s gone about
wi’ her mouth buttoned up so all day。 It’s all wi’ going so among
them servants at the Chase； as we war fools for letting her。 She
thinks it ’ud be a finer life than being wi’ them as are akin to her
and ha’ brought her up sin’ she war no bigger nor Marty。 She
thinks there’s nothing belongs to being a lady’s maid but wearing
finer clothes nor she was born to； I’ll be bound。 It’s what rag she
can get to stick on her as she’s thinking on from morning till night；
as I often ask her if she wouldn’t like to be the mawkin i’ the field；
for then she’d be made o’ rags inside and out。 I’ll never gi’ my
consent to her going for a lady’s maid； while she’s got good friends
to take care on her till she’s married to somebody better nor one o’
them valets； as is neither a common man nor a gentleman； an’
must live on the fat o’ the land； an ’s like enough to stick his hands
under his coat…tails and expect his wife to work for him。”
“Aye； aye；” said Mr。 Poyser； “we must have a better husband
for her nor that； and there’s better at hand。 Come； my wench； give
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over crying and get to bed。 I’ll do better for you nor letting you go
for a lady’s maid。 Let’s hear no more on’t。”
When Hetty was gone upstairs he said； “I canna make it out as
she should want to go away； for I thought she’d got a mind t’ Adam
Bede。 She’s looked like it o’ late。”
“Eh； there’s no knowing what she’s got a liking to； for things
take no more hold on her than if she was a dried pea。 I believe that
gell； Molly—as is aggravatin’ enough； for the matter o’ that—but I
believe she’d care more about leaving us and the children； for all
she’s been here but a year come Michaelmas； nor Hetty would。
But she’s got this notion o’ being a lady’s maid wi’ going among
them servants—we might ha’ known what it ’ud lead to when we
let her go to learn the fine work。 But I’ll put a stop to it pretty
quick。”
“Thee ’dst be sorry to part wi’ her； if it wasn’t for her good；”
said Mr。 Poyser。 “She’s useful to thee i’ the work。”
“Sorry？ Yes； I’m fonder on her nor she deserves—a little hard…
hearted hussy； wanting to leave us i’ that way。 I can’t ha’ had her
about me these seven year； I reckon； and done for her； and taught
her everything wi’out caring about her。 An’ here I’m having linen
spun； an’ thinking all the while it’ll make sheeting and table…
clothing for her when she’s married； an�
