cranford(克兰弗德)-第13章
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firelight … and when I asked if I might not ring for candles to finish
stitching my wristbands； she told me to 〃keep blind man's holiday。〃
They were usually brought in with tea； but we only burnt one at a time。
As we lived in constant preparation for a friend who might come in any
evening （but who never did）； it required some contrivance to keep our
two candles of the same length； ready to be lighted； and to look as if we
burnt two always。 The candles took it in turns； and； whatever we might
be talking about or doing； Miss Matty's eyes were habitually fixed upon
the candle； ready to jump up and extinguish it and to light the other
before they had become too uneven in length to be restored to equality in
the course of the evening。
One night； I remember this candle economy particularly annoyed me。
I had been very much tired of my compulsory 〃blind man's holiday；〃
especially as Miss Matty had fallen asleep； and I did not like to stir the
fire and run the risk of awakening her； so I could not even sit on the rug；
and scorch myself with sewing by firelight； according to my usual
custom。 I fancied Miss Matty must be dreaming of her early life； for
she spoke one or two words in her uneasy sleep bearing reference to
persons who were dead long before。 When Martha brought in the
lighted candle and tea； Miss Matty started into wakefulness； with a
strange； bewildered look around； as if we were not the people she
expected to see about her。 There was a little sad expression that
shadowed her face as she recognised me； but immediately afterwards
she tried to give me her usual smile。 All through tea…time her talk ran
upon the days of her childhood and youth。 Perhaps this reminded her
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of the desirableness of looking over all the old family letters； and
destroying such as ought not to be allowed to fall into the hands of
strangers； for she had often spoken of the necessity of this task； but had
always shrunk from it； with a timid dread of something painful。 To…
night； however； she rose up after tea and went for them … in the dark； for
she piqued herself on the precise neatness of all her chamber
arrangements； and used to look uneasily at me when I lighted a bed…
candle to go to another room for anything。 When she returned there
was a faint； pleasant smell of Tonquin beans in the room。 I had always
noticed this scent about any of the things which had belonged to her
mother； and many of the letters were addressed to her … yellow bundles
of love…letters； sixty or seventy years old。
Miss Matty undid the packet with a sigh； but she stifled it directly； as
if it were hardly right to regret the flight of time； or of life either。 We
agreed to look them over separately； each taking a different letter out of
the same bundle and describing its contents to the other before
destroying it。 I never knew what sad work the reading of old…letters
was before that evening； though I could hardly tell why。 The letters
were as happy as letters could be … at least those early letters were。
There was in them a vivid and intense sense of the present time； which
seemed so strong and full； as if it could never pass away； and as if the
warm； living hearts that so expressed themselves could never die； and be
as nothing to the sunny earth。 I should have felt less melancholy； I
believe； if the letters had been more so。 I saw the tears stealing down
the well…worn furrows of Miss Matty's cheeks； and her spectacles often
wanted wiping。 I trusted at last that she would light the other candle；
for my own eyes were rather dim； and I wanted more light to see the
pale； faded ink； but no； even through her tears； she saw and remembered
her little economical ways。
The earliest set of letters were two bundles tied together； and ticketed
（in Miss Jenkyns's handwriting） 〃Letters interchanged between my ever…
honoured father and my dearly…beloved mother； prior to their marriage；
in July 1774。〃 I should guess that the rector of Cranford was about
twenty…seven years of age when he wrote those letters； and Miss Matty
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told me that her mother was just eighteen at the time of her wedding。
With my idea of the rector derived from a picture in the dining…parlour；
stiff and stately； in a huge full…bottomed wig； with gown； cassock； and
bands； and his hand upon a copy of the only sermon he ever published …
it was strange to read these letters。 They were full of eager； passionate
ardour； short homely sentences； right fresh from the heart （very different
from the grand Latinised； Johnsonian style of the printed sermon
preached before some judge at assize time）。 His letters were a curious
contrast to those of his girl…bride。 She was evidently rather annoyed at
his demands upon her for expressions of love； and could not quite
understand what he meant by repeating the same thing over in so many
different ways； but what she was quite clear about was a longing for a
white 〃Paduasoy〃 … whatever that might be； and six or seven letters were
principally occupied in asking her lover to use his influence with her
parents （who evidently kept her in good order） to obtain this or that
article of dress； more especially the white 〃Paduasoy。〃 He cared
nothing how she was dressed； she was always lovely enough for him； as
he took pains to assure her； when she begged him to express in his
answers a predilection for particular pieces of finery； in order that she
might show what he said to her parents。 But at length he seemed to
find out that she would not be married till she had a 〃trousseau〃 to her
mind； and then he sent her a letter； which had evidently accompanied a
whole box full of finery； and in which he requested that she might be
dressed in everything her heart desired。 This was the first letter；
ticketed in a frail； delicate hand； 〃From my dearest John。〃 Shortly
afterwards they were married； I suppose； from the intermission in their
correspondence。
〃We must burn them； I think；〃 said Miss Matty； looking doubtfully at
me。 〃No one will care for them when I am gone。〃 And one by one
she dropped them into the middle of the fire； watching each blaze up； die
out； and rise away； in faint； white； ghostly semblance； up the chimney；
before she gave another to the same fate。 The room was light enough
now； but I； like her； was fascinated into watching the destruction of
those letters； into which the honest warmth of a manly heart had been
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poured forth。
The next letter； likewise docketed by Miss Jenkyns； was endorsed；
〃Letter of pious congratulation and exhortation from my venerable
grandfather to my beloved mother； on occasion of my own birth。 Also
some practical remarks on the desirability of keeping warm the
extremities of infants； from my excellent grandmother。〃
The first part was； indeed； a severe and forcible picture of the
responsibilities of mothers； and a warning against the evils that were in
the world； and lying in ghastly wait for the little baby of two days old。
His wife did not write； said the old gentleman； because he had forbidden
it； she being indisposed with a sprained ankle； which （he said） quite
incapacitated her from holding a pen。 However； at the foot of the page
was a small 〃T。O。；〃 and on turning it over； sure enough； there was a
letter to 〃my dear； dearest Molly；〃 begging her； when she left her room；
whatever she did； to go UP stairs before going DOWN： and telling her to
wrap her baby's feet up in flannel； and keep it warm by the fire； although
it was summer； for babies were so tender。
It was pretty to see from the letters； which were evidently exchanged
with some frequency between the young mother and the grandmother；
how the girlish vanity was being weeded out of her heart by love for her
baby。 The white 〃Paduasoy〃 figured again in the letters； with almost as
much vigour as before。 In one； it was being made into a christening
cloak for the baby。 It decked it when it went with its parents to spend a
day or two at Arley Hall。 It added to its charms； when it was 〃the
prettiest little baby that ever was seen。 Dear mother； I wish you could
see her！ Without any pershality； I do think she will grow up a regular
bewty！〃 I thought of Miss Jenkyns； grey； withered； and wrinkled； and I
wondered if
