christie johnstone-第11章

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her　voice　had　compass；　and；　like　all　fine　speakers；　she　traveled　over　a
great　many　notes　in　speaking；　her　low　tones　were　gorgeously　rich；　her
upper　tones　full　and　sweet；　all　this；　and　her　beauty；　made　the　hours　she
gave　him　very　sweet　to　our　poor　artist。

He　was　wont　to　bask　in　her　music；　and　tell　her　in　return　how　he　loved
her；　and　how　happy　they　were　both　to　be　as　soon　as　he　had　acquired　a
name；　for　a　name　was　wealth；　he　told　her。　And　although　Christie　Johnstone
did　not　let　him　see　how　much　she　took　all　this　to　heart　and　believed　it；
it　was　as　sweet　music　to　her　as　her　own　honeysuckle　breath　to　him。

She　improved　him。

He　dropped　cigars；　and　medical　students；　and　similar　abominations。

Christie's　cool；　fresh　breath；　as　she　hung　over　him　while　painting；
suggested　to　him　that　smoking　might；　peradventure；　be　a　sin　against
nature　as　well　as　against　cleanliness。

And　he　improved　her；　she　learned　from　art　to　look　into　nature　（the　usual
process　of　mind）。

She　had　noticed　too　little　the　flickering　gold　of　the　leaves　at　evening；
the　purple　hills；　and　the　shifting　stories　and　glories　of　the　sky；　but
now；　whatever　she　saw　him　try　to　imitate；　she　learned　to　examine。　She　was
a　woman；　and　admired　sunset；　etc。；　for　this　boy's　sake；　and　her　whole
heart　expanded　with　a　new　sensation　that　softened　her　manner　to　all　the
world；　and　brightened　her　personal　rays。

This　charming　picture　of　mutual　affection　had　hitherto　been　admired　only
by　those　who　figured　in　it。

But　a　visitor　had　now　arrived　on　purpose　to　inspect　it；　etc。；　attracted
by　report。

A　friend　had　considerately　informed　Mrs。　Gatty；　the　artist's　mother；　and
she　had　instantly　started　from　Newcastle。

This　was　the　old　lady　Christie　discovered　on　the　stairs。

Her　sudden　appearance　took　her　son's　breath　away。

No　human　event　was　less　likely　than　that　she　should　be　there；　yet　there
she　was。

After　the　first　surprise　and　affectionate　greetings；　a　misgiving　crossed
him；　〃she　must　know　about　the　writ〃it　was　impossible；　but　our　minds　are
so　constitutedwhen　we　are　guilty；　we　fear　that　others　know　what　we
know。　Now　Gatty　was　particularly　anxious　she　should　not　know　about　this
writ；　for　he　had　incurred　the　debt　by　acting　against　her　advice。

Last　year　he　commenced　a　picture　in　which　was　Durham　Cathedral；　his
mother　bade　him　stay　quietly　at　home；　and　paint　the　cathedral　and　its
banks　from　a　print；　〃as　any　other　painter　would；〃　observed　she。

But　this　was　not　the　lad's　system；　he　spent　five　months　on　the　spot；　and
painted　his　picture；　but　he　had　to　borrow　sixty　pounds　to　do　this；　the
condition　of　this　loan　was；　that　in　six　months　he　should　either　pay
eighty　pounds；　or　finish　and　hand　over　a　certain　half…finished　picture。

He　did　neither；　his　new　subject　thrust　aside　his　old　one；　and　he　had　no
money；　ergo；　his　friend；　a　picture…dealer；　who　had　found　artists　slippery
in　money　matters；　followed　him　up　sharp；　as　we　see。

〃There　is　nothing　the　matter；　I　hope；　mother。　What　is　it？〃

〃I'm　tired；　Charles。〃　He　brought　her　a　seat；　she　sat　down。

〃I　did　not　come　from　Newcastle；　at　my　age；　for　nothing；　you　have　formed
an　improper　acquaintance。〃

〃I；　who？　Is　it　Jack　Adams？〃

〃Worse　than　any　Jack　Adams！〃

〃Who　can　that　be？　Jenkyns；　mother；　because　he　does　the　same　things　as
Jack；　and　pretends　to　be　religious。〃

〃It　is　a　femalea　fishwife。　Oh；　my　son！〃

〃Christie　Johnstone　an　improper　acquaintance；〃　said　he；　〃why！　I　was　good
for　nothing　till　I　knew　her；　she　has　made　me　so　good；　mother；　so　steady；
so　industrious；　you　will　never　have　to　find　fault　with　me　again。〃

〃Nonsensea　woman　that　sells　fish　in　the　streets！〃

〃But　you　have　not　seen　her。　She　is　beautiful；　her　mind　is　not　in　fish；
her　mind　grasps　the　beautiful　and　the　goodshe　is　a　companion　for
princes！　What　am　I　that　she　wastes　a　thought　or　a　ray　of　music　on　me？
Heaven　bless　her。　She　reads　our　best　authors；　and　never　forgets　a　word；
and　she　tells　me　beautiful　storiessometimes　they　make　me　cry；　for　her
voice　is　a　music　that　goes　straight　to　my　heart。〃

〃A　woman　that　does　not　even　wear　the　clothes　of　a　lady。〃

〃It　is　the　only　genuine　costume　in　these　islands　not　beneath　a　painter's
notice。〃

〃Look　at　me；　Charles；　at　your　mother。〃

〃Yes；　mother；〃　said　he；　nervously。

〃You　must　part　with　her；　or　kill　me。〃

He　started　from　his　seat　and　began　to　flutter　up　and　down　the　room；　poor
excitable　creature。　〃Part　with　her！〃　cried　he；　〃I　shall　never　be　a
painter　if　I　do；　what　is　to　keep　my　heart　warm　when　the　sun　is　hid；　when
the　birds　are　silent；　when　difficulty　looks　a　mountain　and　success　a
molehill？　What　is　an　artist　without　love？　How　is　he　to　bear　up　against
his　disappointments　from　within；　his　mortification　from　without？　the
great　ideas　he　has　and　cannot　grasp；　and　all　the　forms　of　ignorance　that
sting　him；　from　stupid　insensibility　down　to　clever；　shallow　criticism？〃

〃Come　back　to　common　sense；〃　said　the　old　lady；　coldly　and　grimly。

He　looked　uneasy。　Common　sense　had　often　been　quoted　against　him；　and
common　sense　had　always　proved　right。

〃Come　back　to　common　sense。　She　shall　not　be　your　mistress；　and　she
cannot　bear　your　name；　you　must　part　some　day；　because　you　cannot　come
together；　and　now　is　the　best　time。〃

〃Not　be　together？　all　our　lives；　all　our　lives；　ay；〃　cried　he；　rising
into　enthusiasm；　〃hundreds　of　years　to　come　will　we　two　be　together
before　men's　eyesI　will　be　an　immortal　painter；　that　the　world　and　time
may　cherish　the　features　I　have　loved。　I　love　her；　mother；〃　added　he；
with　a　tearful　tenderness　that　ought　to　have　reached　a　woman's　heart；
then　flushing；　trembling；　and　inspired；　he　burst　out；　〃And　I　wish　I　was　a
sculptor　and　a　poet　too；　that　Christie　might　live　in　stone　and　verse；　as
well　as　colors；　and　all　who　love　an　art　might　say；　'This　woman　cannot
die；　Charles　Gatty　loved　her。'〃

He　looked　in　her　face；　he　could　not　believe　any　creature　could　be
insensible　to　his　love；　and　persist　to　rob　him　of　it。

The　old　woman　paused；　to　let　his　eloquence　evaporate。

The　pause　chilled　him；　then　gently　and　slowly；　but　emphatically；　she
spoke　to　him　thus：

〃Who　has　kept　you　on　her　small　means　ever　since　you　were　ten　years　and
seven　months　old？〃

〃You　should　know；　mother；　dear　mother。〃

〃Answer　me；　Charles。〃

〃My　mother。〃

〃Who　has　pinched　herself；　in　every　earthly　thing；　to　make　you　an　immortal
painter；　and；　above　all；　a　gentleman？〃

〃My　mother。〃

〃Who　forgave　you　the　little　faults　of　youth；　before　you　could　ask
pardon？〃

〃My　mother！　Oh；　mother；　I　ask　pardon　now　for　all　the　trouble　I　ever　gave
the　best；　the　dearest；　the　tenderest　of　mothers。〃

〃Who　will　go　home　to　Newcastle；　a　broken…hearted　woman；　with　the　one　hope
gone　that　has　kept　her　up　in　poverty　and　sorrow　so　many　weary　years；　if
this　goes　on？〃

〃Nobody；　I　hope。〃

〃Yes；　Charles；　your　mother。〃

〃Oh；　mother；　you　have　been　always　my　best　friend。〃

〃And　am　this　day。〃

〃Do　not　be　my　worst　enemy　now。　It　is　for　me　to　obey　you；　but　it　is　for
you　to　think　well　before　you　drive　me　to　despair。〃

And　the　poor　womanish　heart　leaned　his　head　on　the　table；　and　began　to
sorrow　over　his　hard　fate。

Mrs。　Gatty　soothed　him。　〃It　need　not　be　done　all　in　a　moment。　It　must　be
done　kindly；　but　firmly。　I　will　give　you　as　much　time　as　you　like。〃

This　bait　took；　the　weak　love　to　temporize。

It　is　doubtful　whether　he　honestly　intended　to　part　with　Christie
Johnstone；　but　to　pacify　his　mother　he　promised　to　begin　and　gradually
untie　the　knot。

〃My　mother　will　go；〃　whispered　his　deceitful　heart；　〃and；　when　she　is
away；　perhaps　I　shall　find　out　that　in　spite　of　every　effort　I　cannot
resign　my　treasure。〃

He　gave　a　sort　of　half…promise　for　the　sake　of　peace。

His　mother　instantly　sent　to　the　inn　for　her　boxes。

〃There　is　a　room　in　this　same　house；〃　said　she；　〃I　will　take　it；　I　will
not　hurry　you；　but　until　it　is　done；　I　stay　here；　if　it　is　a　twelvemonth
about。〃

He　turned　pale。

〃And　now　hear　the　good　news　I　have　brought　you　from　Newcastle。〃

Oh！　these　little　iron　wills；　how　is　a　great　artist　to　fight　three　hundred
and　sixty…five　days　against　such　an　antagonist？

Every　day　saw　a　repetition　of　these　dialogues；　in　which　genius　made
gallant　burst