adam bede(亚当[1].比德)-第81章
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that was in it。 She was not indifferent to his presence after all； she
had blushed when she saw him； and then there was that touch of
sadness about her which must surely mean love； since it was the
opposite of her usual manner； which had often impressed him as
indifference。 And he could glance at her continually as she bent
over the fruit； while the level evening sunbeams stole through the
thick apple…tree boughs； and rested on her round cheek and neck
as if they too were in love with her。 It was to Adam the time that a
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man can least forget in after…life； the time when he believes that
the first woman he has ever loved betrays by a slight something—a
word； a tone； a glance； the quivering of a lip or an eyelid—that she
is at least beginning to love him in return。 The sign is so slight； it is
scarcely perceptible to the ear or eye—he could describe it to no
one—it is a mere feather…touch； yet it seems to have changed his
whole being； to have merged an uneasy yearning into a delicious
unconsciousness of everything but the present moment。 So much
of our early gladness vanishes utterly from our memory： we can
never recall the joy with which we laid our heads on our mother’s
bosom or rode on our father’s back in childhood。 Doubtless that
joy is wrought up into our nature； as the sunlight of long…past
mornings is wrought up in the soft mellowness of the apricot； but
it is gone for ever from our imagination； and we can only believe in
the joy of childhood。 But the first glad moment in our first love is a
vision which returns to us to the last； and brings with it a thrill of
feeling intense and special as the recurrent sensation of a sweet
odour breathed in a far…off hour of happiness。 It is a memory that
gives a more exquisite touch to tenderness； that feeds the madness
of jealousy and adds the last keenness to the agony of despair。
Hetty bending over the red bunches； the level rays piercing the
screen of apple…tree boughs； the length of bushy garden beyond；
his own emotion as he looked at her and believed that she was
thinking of him； and that there was no need for them to talk—
Adam remembered it all to the last moment of his life。
And Hetty？ You know quite well that Adam was mistaken
about her。 Like many other men； he thought the signs of love for
another were signs of love towards himself。 When Adam was
approaching unseen by her； she was absorbed as usual in thinking
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and wondering about Arthur’s possible return。 The sound of any
man’s footstep would have affected her just in the same way—she
would have felt it might be Arthur before she had time to see； and
the blood that forsook her cheek in the agitation of that
momentary feeling would have rushed back again at the sight of
any one else just as much as at the sight of Adam。 He was not
wrong in thinking that a change had come over Hetty： the
anxieties and fears of a first passion； with which she was
trembling； had become stronger than vanity； had given her for the
first time that sense of helpless dependence on another’s feeling
which awakens the clinging deprecating womanhood even in the
shallowest girl that can ever experience it； and creates in her a
sensibility to kindness which found her quite hard before。 For the
first time Hetty felt that there was something soothing to her in
Adam’s timid yet manly tenderness。 She wanted to be treated
lovingly—oh； it was very hard to bear this blank of absence；
silence； apparent indifference； after those moments of glowing
love！ She was not afraid that Adam would tease her with love…
making and flattering speeches like her other admirers； he had
always been so reserved to her； she could enjoy without any fear
the sense that this strong brave man loved her and was near her。
It never entered into her mind that Adam was pitiable too—that
Adam too must suffer one day。
Hetty； we know； was not the first woman that had behaved
more gently to the man who loved her in vain because she had
herself begun to love another。 It was a very old story； but Adam
knew nothing about it； so he drank in the sweet delusion。
“That’ll do；” said Hetty； after a little while。 “Aunt wants me to
leave some on the trees。 I’ll take ’em in now。”
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“It’s very well I came to carry the basket；” said Adam “for it ’ud
ha’ been too heavy for your little arms。”
“No； I could ha’ carried it with both hands。”
“Oh； I daresay；” said Adam； smiling； “and been as long getting
into the house as a little ant carrying a caterpillar。 Have you ever
seen those tiny fellows carrying things four times as big as
themselves？”
“No；” said Hetty； indifferently； not caring to know the
difficulties of ant life。
“Oh； I used to watch ’em often when I was a lad。 But now； you
see； I can carry the basket with one arm； as if it was an empty
nutshell； and give you th’ other arm to lean on。 Won’t you？ Such
big arms as mine were made for little arms like yours to lean on。”
Hetty smiled faintly and put her arm within his。 Adam looked
down at her； but her eyes were turned dreamily towards another
corner of the garden。
“Have you ever been to Eagledale？” she said； as they walked
slowly along。
“Yes；” said Adam； pleased to have her ask a question about
himself。 “Ten years ago； when I was a lad； I went with father to see
about some work there。 It’s a wonderful sight—rocks and caves
such as you never saw in your life。 I never had a right notion o’
rocks till I went there。”
“How long did it take to get there？”
“Why； it took us the best part o’ two days’ walking。 But it’s
nothing of a day’s journey for anybody as has got a first…rate nag。
The captain ’ud get there in nine or ten hours； I’ll be bound； he’s
such a rider。 And I shouldn’t wonder if he’s back again to…morrow；
he’s too active to rest long in that lonely place； all by himself； for
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there’s nothing but a bit of a inn i’ that part where he’s gone to
fish。 I wish he’d got th’ estate in his hands； that ’ud be the right
thing for him； for it ’ud give him plenty to do； and he’d do ’t well
too； for all he’s so young； he’s got better notions o’ things than
many a
