the doom of the griffiths-第3章

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Letters　in　those　days　were　a　rare　occurrence。　　Owen　usually　received

one　during　his　half…yearly　absences　from　home；　and　occasionally　his

father　paid　him　a　visit。　　This　half…year　the　boy　had　no　visit；　nor

even　a　letter；　till　very　near　the　time　of　his　leaving　school；　and

then　he　was　astounded　by　the　intelligence　that　his　father　was　married

again。



Then　came　one　of　his　paroxysms　of　rage；　the　more　disastrous　in　its

effects　upon　his　character　because　it　could　find　no　vent　in　action。

Independently　of　slight　to　the　memory　of　the　first　wife　which

children　are　so　apt　to　fancy　such　an　action　implies；　Owen　had

hitherto　considered　himself　（and　with　justice）　the　first　object　of

his　father's　life。　　They　had　been　so　much　to　each　other；　and　now　a

shapeless；　but　too　real　something　had　come　between　him　and　his　father

there　for　ever。　　He　felt　as　if　his　permission　should　have　been　asked；

as　if　he　should　have　been　consulted。　　Certainly　he　ought　to　have　been

told　of　the　intended　event。　　So　the　Squire　felt；　and　hence　his

constrained　letter　which　had　so　much　increased　the　bitterness　of

Owen's　feelings。



With　all　this　anger；　when　Owen　saw　his　stepmother；　he　thought　he　had

never　seen　so　beautiful　a　woman　for　her　age；　for　she　was　no　longer　in

the　bloom　of　youth；　being　a　widow　when　his　father　married　her。　　Her

manners；　to　the　Welsh　lad；　who　had　seen　little　of　female　grace　among

the　families　of　the　few　antiquarians　with　whom　his　father　visited；

were　so　fascinating　that　he　watched　her　with　a　sort　of　breathless

admiration。　　Her　measured　grace；　her　faultless　movements；　her　tones

of　voice；　sweet；　till　the　ear　was　sated　with　their　sweetness；　made

Owen　less　angry　at　his　father's　marriage。　　Yet　he　felt；　more　than

ever；　that　the　cloud　was　between　him　and　his　father；　that　the　hasty

letter　he　had　sent　in　answer　to　the　announcement　of　his　wedding　was

not　forgotten；　although　no　allusion　was　ever　made　to　it。　　He　was　no

longer　his　father's　confidanthardly　ever　his　father's　companion；

for　the　newly…married　wife　was　all　in　all　to　the　Squire；　and　his　son

felt　himself　almost　a　cipher；　where　he　had　so　long　been　everything。

The　lady　herself　had　ever　the　softest　consideration　for　her　stepson；

almost　too　obtrusive　was　the　attention　paid　to　his　wishes；　but　still

he　fancied　that　the　heart　had　no　part　in　the　winning　advances。　　There

was　a　watchful　glance　of　the　eye　that　Owen　once　or　twice　caught　when

she　had　imagined　herself　unobserved；　and　many　other　nameless　little

circumstances；　that　gave　him　a　strong　feeling　of　want　of　sincerity　in

his　stepmother。　　Mrs。　Owen　brought　with　her　into　the　family　her

little　child　by　her　first　husband；　a　boy　nearly　three　years　old。　　He

was　one　of　those　elfish；　observant；　mocking　children；　over　whose

feelings　you　seem　to　have　no　control：　　agile　and　mischievous；　his

little　practical　jokes；　at　first　performed　in　ignorance　of　the　pain

he　gave；　but　afterward　proceeding　to　a　malicious　pleasure　in

suffering；　really　seemed　to　afford　some　ground　to　the　superstitious

notion　of　some　of　the　common　people　that　he　was　a　fairy　changeling。



Years　passed　on；　and　as　Owen　grew　older　he　became　more　observant。　　He

saw；　even　in　his　occasional　visits　at　home　（for　from　school　he　had

passed　on　to　college）；　that　a　great　change　had　taken　place　in　the

outward　manifestations　of　his　father's　character；　and；　by　degrees；

Owen　traced　this　change　to　the　influence　of　his　stepmother；　so

slight；　so　imperceptible　to　the　common　observer；　yet　so　resistless　in

its　effects。　　Squire　Griffiths　caught　up　his　wife's　humbly　advanced

opinions；　and；　unawares　to　himself；　adopted　them　as　his　own；　defying

all　argument　and　opposition。　　It　was　the　same　with　her　wishes；　they

met　their　fulfilment；　from　the　extreme　and　delicate　art　with　which

she　insinuated　them　into　her　husband's　mind；　as　his　own。　　She

sacrificed　the　show　of　authority　for　the　power。　　At　last；　when　Owen

perceived　some　oppressive　act　in　his　father's　conduct　toward　his

dependants；　or　some　unaccountable　thwarting　of　his　own　wishes；　he

fancied　he　saw　his　stepmother's　secret　influence　thus　displayed；

however　much　she　might　regret　the　injustice　of　his　father's　actions

in　her　conversations　with　him　when　they　were　alone。　　His　father　was

fast　losing　his　temperate　habits；　and　frequent　intoxication　soon　took

its　usual　effect　upon　the　temper。　　Yet　even　here　was　the　spell　of　his

wife　upon　him。　　Before　her　he　placed　a　restraint　upon　his　passion；

yet　she　was　perfectly　aware　of　his　irritable　disposition；　and

directed　it　hither　and　thither　with　the　same　apparent　ignorance　of

the　tendency　of　her　words。



Meanwhile　Owen's　situation　became　peculiarly　mortifying　to　a　youth

whose　early　remembrances　afforded　such　a　contrast　to　his　present

state。　　As　a　child；　he　had　been　elevated　to　the　consequence　of　a　man

before　his　years　gave　any　mental　check　to　the　selfishness　which　such

conduct　was　likely　to　engender；　he　could　remember　when　his　will　was

law　to　the　servants　and　dependants；　and　his　sympathy　necessary　to　his

father：　　now　he　was　as　a　cipher　in　his　father's　house；　and　the

Squire；　estranged　in　the　first　instance　by　a　feeling　of　the　injury　he

had　done　his　son　in　not　sooner　acquainting　him　with　his　purposed

marriage；　seemed　rather　to　avoid　than　to　seek　him　as　a　companion；　and

too　frequently　showed　the　most　utter　indifference　to　the　feelings　and

wishes　which　a　young　man　of　a　high　and　independent　spirit　might　be

supposed　to　indulge。



Perhaps　Owen　was　not　fully　aware　of　the　force　of　all　these

circumstances；　for　an　actor　in　a　family　drama　is　seldom　unimpassioned

enough　to　be　perfectly　observant。　　But　he　became　moody　and　soured；

brooding　over　his　unloved　existence；　and　craving　with　a　human　heart

after　sympathy。



This　feeling　took　more　full　possession　of　his　mind　when　he　had　left

college；　and　returned　home　to　lead　an　idle　and　purposeless　life。　　As

the　heir；　there　was　no　worldly　necessity　for　exertion：　　his　father

was　too　much　of　a　Welsh　squire　to　dream　of　the　moral　necessity；　and

he　himself　had　not　sufficient　strength　of　mind　to　decide　at　once　upon

abandoning　a　place　and　mode　of　life　which　abounded　in　daily

mortifications；　yet　to　this　course　his　judgment　was　slowly　tending；

when　some　circumstances　occurred　to　detain　him　at　Bodowen。



It　was　not　to　be　expected　that　harmony　would　long　be　preserved；　even

in　appearance；　between　an　unguarded　and　soured　young　man；　such　as

Owen；　and　his　wary　stepmother；　when　he　had　once　left　college；　and

come；　not　as　a　visitor；　but　as　the　heir　to　his　father's　house。　　Some

cause　of　difference　occurred；　where　the　woman　subdued　her　hidden

anger　sufficiently　to　become　convinced　that　Owen　was　not　entirely　the

dupe　she　had　believed　him　to　be。　　Henceforward　there　was　no　peace

between　them。　　Not　in　vulgar　altercations　did　this　show　itself；　but

in　moody　reserve　on　Owen's　part；　and　in　undisguised　and　contemptuous

pursuance　of　her　own　plans　by　his　stepmother。　　Bodowen　was　no　longer

a　place　where；　if　Owen　was　not　loved　or　attended　to；　he　could　at

least　find　peace；　and　care　for　himself：　　he　was　thwarted　at　every

step；　and　in　every　wish；　by　his　father's　desire；　apparently；　while

the　wife　sat　by　with　a　smile　of　triumph　on　her　beautiful　lips。



So　Owen　went　forth　at　the　early　day　dawn；　sometimes　roaming　about　on

the　shore　or　the　upland；　shooting　or　fishing；　as　the　season　might　be；

but　oftener　〃stretched　in　indolent　repose〃　on　the　short；　sweet　grass；

indulging　in　gloomy　and　morbid　reveries。　　He　would　fancy　that　this

mortified　state　of　existence　was　a　dream；　a　horrible　dream；　from

which　he　should　awake　and　find　himself　again　the　sole　object　and

darling　of　his　father。　　And　then　he　would　start　up　and　strive　to

shake　off　the　incubus。　　There　was　the　molten　sunset　of　his　childish

memory；　the　gorgeous　crimson　piles　of　glory　in　the　west；　fading　away

into　the　cold　calm　light　of　the　rising　moon；　while　here　and　there　a

cloud　floated　across　the　western　heaven；　like　a　seraph's　wing；　in　its

flaming　b