the half-brothers-第1章

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The　Half…Brothers



by　Elizabeth　Gaskell











My　mother　was　twice　married。　　She　never　spoke　of　her　first　husband；

and　it　is　only　from　other　people　that　I　have　learnt　what　little　I

know　about　him。　　I　believe　she　was　scarcely　seventeen　when　she　was

married　to　him：　　and　he　was　barely　one…and…twenty。　　He　rented　a　small

farm　up　in　Cumberland；　somewhere　towards　the　sea…coast；　but　he　was

perhaps　too　young　and　inexperienced　to　have　the　charge　of　land　and

cattle：　　anyhow；　his　affairs　did　not　prosper；　and　he　fell　into　ill

health；　and　died　of　consumption　before　they　had　been　three　years　man

and　wife；　leaving　my　mother　a　young　widow　of　twenty；　with　a　little

child　only　just　able　to　walk；　and　the　farm　on　her　hands　for　four

years　more　by　the　lease；　with　half　the　stock　on　it　dead；　or　sold　off

one　by　one　to　pay　the　more　pressing　debts；　and　with　no　money　to

purchase　more；　or　even　to　buy　the　provisions　needed　for　the　small

consumption　of　every　day。　　There　was　another　child　coming；　too；　and

sad　and　sorry；　I　believe；　she　was　to　think　of　it。　　A　dreary　winter

she　must　have　had　in　her　lonesome　dwelling；　with　never　another　near

it　for　miles　around；　her　sister　came　to　bear　her　company；　and　they

two　planned　and　plotted　how　to　make　every　penny　they　could　raise　go

as　far　as　possible。　　I　can't　tell　you　how　it　happened　that　my　little

sister；　whom　I　never　saw；　came　to　sicken　and　die；　but；　as　if　my　poor

mother's　cup　was　not　full　enough；　only　a　fortnight　before　Gregory　was

born　the　little　girl　took　ill　of　scarlet　fever；　and　in　a　week　she　lay

dead。　　My　mother　was；　I　believe；　just　stunned　with　this　last　blow。

My　aunt　has　told　me　that　she　did　not　cry；　aunt　Fanny　would　have　been

thankful　if　she　had；　but　she　sat　holding　the　poor　wee　lassie's　hand

and　looking　in　her　pretty；　pale；　dead　face；　without　so　much　as

shedding　a　tear。　　And　it　was　all　the　same；　when　they　had　to　take　her

away　to　be　buried。　　She　just　kissed　the　child；　and　sat　her　down　in

the　window…seat　to　watch　the　little　black　train　of　people

（neighboursmy　aunt；　and　one　far…off　cousin；　who　were　all　the

friends　they　could　muster）　go　winding　away　amongst　the　snow；　which

had　fallen　thinly　over　the　country　the　night　before。　　When　my　aunt

came　back　from　the　funeral；　she　found　my　mother　in　the　same　place；

and　as　dry…eyed　as　ever。　　So　she　continued　until　after　Gregory　was

born；　and；　somehow；　his　coming　seemed　to　loosen　the　tears；　and　she

cried　day　and　night；　till　my　aunt　and　the　other　watcher　looked　at

each　other　in　dismay；　and　would　fain　have　stopped　her　if　they　had　but

known　how。　　But　she　bade　them　let　her　alone；　and　not　be　over…anxious；

for　every　drop　she　shed　eased　her　brain；　which　had　been　in　a　terrible

state　before　for　want　of　the　power　to　cry。　　She　seemed　after　that　to

think　of　nothing　but　her　new　little　baby；　she　had　hardly　appeared　to

remember　either　her　husband　or　her　little　daughter　that　lay　dead　in

Brigham　churchyardat　least　so　aunt　Fanny　said；　but　she　was　a　great

talker；　and　my　mother　was　very　silent　by　nature；　and　I　think　aunt

Fanny　may　have　been　mistaken　in　believing　that　my　mother　never

thought　of　her　husband　and　child　just　because　she　never　spoke　about

them。　　Aunt　Fanny　was　older　than　my　mother；　and　had　a　way　of　treating

her　like　a　child；　but；　for　all　that；　she　was　a　kind；　warm…hearted

creature；　who　thought　more　of　her　sister's　welfare　than　she　did　of

her　own　and　it　was　on　her　bit　of　money　that　they　principally　lived；

and　on　what　the　two　could　earn　by　working　for　the　great　Glasgow

sewing…merchants。　　But　by…and…by　my　mother's　eye…sight　began　to　fail。

It　was　not　that　she　was　exactly　blind；　for　she　could　see　well　enough

to　guide　herself　about　the　house；　and　to　do　a　good　deal　of　domestic

work；　but　she　could　no　longer　do　fine　sewing　and　earn　money。　　It　must

have　been　with　the　heavy　crying　she　had　had　in　her　day；　for　she　was

but　a　young　creature　at　this　time；　and　as　pretty　a　young　woman；　I

have　heard　people　say；　as　any　on　the　country　side。　　She　took　it　sadly

to　heart　that　she　could　no　longer　gain　anything　towards　the　keep　of

herself　and　her　child。　　My　aunt　Fanny　would　fain　have　persuaded　her

that　she　had　enough　to　do　in　managing　their　cottage　and　minding

Gregory；　but　my　mother　knew　that　they　were　pinched；　and　that　aunt

Fanny　herself　had　not　as　much　to　eat；　even　of　the　commonest　kind　of

food；　as　she　could　have　done　with；　and　as　for　Gregory；　he　was　not　a

strong　lad；　and　needed；　not　more　foodfor　he　always　had　enough；

whoever　went　shortbut　better　nourishment；　and　more　flesh…meat。　　One

dayit　was　aunt　Fanny　who　told　me　all　this　about　my　poor　mother；

long　after　her　deathas　the　sisters　were　sitting　together；　aunt

Fanny　working；　and　my　mother　hushing　Gregory　to　sleep；　William

Preston；　who　was　afterwards　my　father；　came　in。　　He　was　reckoned　an

old　bachelor；　I　suppose　he　was　long　past　forty；　and　he　was　one　of　the

wealthiest　farmers　thereabouts；　and　had　known　my　grandfather　well；

and　my　mother　and　my　aunt　in　their　more　prosperous　days。　　He　sat

down；　and　began　to　twirl　his　hat　by　way　of　being　agreeable；　my　aunt

Fanny　talked；　and　he　listened　and　looked　at　my　mother。　　But　he　said

very　little；　either　on　that　visit；　or　on　many　another　that　he　paid

before　he　spoke　out　what　had　been　the　real　purpose　of　his　calling　so

often　all　along；　and　from　the　very　first　time　he　came　to　their　house。

One　Sunday；　however；　my　aunt　Fanny　stayed　away　from　church；　and　took

care　of　the　child；　and　my　mother　went　alone。　　When　she　came　back；　she

ran　straight　upstairs；　without　going　into　the　kitchen　to　look　at

Gregory　or　speak　any　word　to　her　sister；　and　aunt　Fanny　heard　her　cry

as　if　her　heart　was　breaking；　so　she　went　up　and　scolded　her　right

well　through　the　bolted　door；　till　at　last　she　got　her　to　open　it。

And　then　she　threw　herself　on　my　aunt's　neck；　and　told　her　that

William　Preston　had　asked　her　to　marry　him；　and　had　promised　to　take

good　charge　of　her　boy；　and　to　let　him　want　for　nothing；　neither　in

the　way　of　keep　nor　of　education；　and　that　she　had　consented。　　Aunt

Fanny　was　a　good　deal　shocked　at　this；　for；　as　I　have　said；　she　had

often　thought　that　my　mother　had　forgotten　her　first　husband　very

quickly；　and　now　here　was　proof　positive　of　it；　if　she　could　so　soon

think　of　marrying　again。　　Besides　as　aunt　Fanny　used　to　say；　she

herself　would　have　been　a　far　more　suitable　match　for　a　man　of

William　Preston's　age　than　Helen；　who；　though　she　was　a　widow；　had

not　seen　her　four…and…twentieth　summer。　　However；　as　aunt　Fanny　said；

they　had　not　asked　her　advice；　and　there　was　much　to　be　said　on　the

other　side　of　the　question。　　Helen's　eyesight　would　never　be　good　for

much　again；　and　as　William　Preston's　wife　she　would　never　need　to　do

anything；　if　she　chose　to　sit　with　her　hands　before　her；　and　a　boy

was　a　great　charge　to　a　widowed　mother；　and　now　there　would　be　a

decent　steady　man　to　see　after　him。　　So；　by…and…by；　aunt　Fanny　seemed

to　take　a　brighter　view　of　the　marriage　than　did　my　mother　herself；

who　hardly　ever　looked　up；　and　never　smiled　after　the　day　when　she

promised　William　Preston　to　be　his　wife。　　But　much　as　she　had　loved

Gregory　before；　she　seemed　to　love　him　more　now。　　She　was　continually

talking　to　him　when　they　were　alone；　though　he　was　far　too　young　to

understand　her　moaning　words；　or　give　her　any　comfort；　except　by　his

caresses。



At　last　William　Preston　and　she　were　wed；　and　she　went　to　be　mistress

of　a　well…stocked　house；　not　above　half…an…hour's　walk　from　where

aunt　Fanny　lived。　　I　believe　she　did　all　that　she　could　to　please　my

father；　and　a　more　dutiful　wife；　I　have　heard　him　himself　say；　could

never　have　been。　　But　she　did　not　love　him；　and　he　soon　found　it　out。

She　loved　Gregory；　and　she　did　not　love　him。　　Perhaps；　love　would

have　come　in　time；　if　he　had　been　patient　enough　to　wait；　but　it　just

turned　him　sour　to　see　how　her　eye　brightened　and　her　colour　came　at

the　sight　of　that　little　child；　while　for　him　who　had　given　her　so

much；　she　had　only　gentle　words　as　cold　as　ice。　　He　got　to　taunt　her

with　the　difference　in　her　manner；　as　if　that　would　bring　love：　　and

he　took　a　positive　dislike　to　Gregory；he　was　so　jealous　of　the

ready　love　that　always　gushed　out　like　a　spring　of　fresh　water　when

he　came　near。　　He　wanted　her　to　love　him　more；　and　perhaps　that　was

all　well　and　good；　but　he　wanted　her　to　love　her　child　less；　and　that

was　an　evil　wish。　　One　day；　he　gave　way　to　his　temper；　and　cursed　and

swore　at　Gregory；　who　had　got　into　some　mischief；　as　children　will；

my　mother　made　some　excuse　for　him；　my　father　said　it　was　hard　enough

to　have　to　keep　another　man's　child；　without　having　it　perpetually

held　up　in　its　naughtiness　by　his　wife；　who　ought　to　be　always　in　the

same　mind　that　he　was；　and　so　from　little　they　got　to　more；　and　the

end　of　it　was；　that　my　mother　took　to　her　bed　before　her　time；　and　I

was　born　that　very　day。　　My　father　was　glad；　and　proud；　and　sorry；

all　in　a　breath；　glad　and　proud　that　a　son　was　born　to　him；　and　sorry

for　his　poor　wife's　state；　and　to　think　how　his　angry　words　had

brought　it　on。　　But　he　was　a　man　who　liked　better　to　be　angry　than

sorry；　so　he　soon　found　out　that　it　was　all　Gregory's　fault；　and　owed

him　an　additional　grudge　for　having　hastened　my　birth。　　He　had

another　grudge　against　him　before　long。　　My　mother　began　to　sink　the

day　after　I　was　born。　　My　father　sent　to　Carlisle　for　doctors；　and

would　have　coined　his　heart's　blood　into　gold　to　save　her；　if　that

could　have　been；　but　it　could　not。　　My　aunt　Fanny　used　to　say

sometimes；　that　she　thought　that　Helen　did　not　wish　to　live；　and　so

just　let　herself　die　away　without　trying　to　take　hold　on　life；　but

when　I　questioned　her；　she　owned　that　my　mother　did　all　the　doctors

bade　her　do；　with　the　same　sort　of　uncomplaining　patience　with　which

she　had　acted　through　life。　　One　of　her　last　requests　was　to　have

Gregory　laid　in　her　bed　by　my　side；　and　then　she　made　him　take　hold

of　my　little　hand。　　Her　husband　came　in　while　she　was　looking　at　us

so；　and　when　he　bent　tenderly　over　her　to　ask　her　how　she　felt　now；

and　seemed　to　gaze　on　us　two　little　half…brothers；　with　a　grave　sort

of　kindness；　she　looked　up　in　his　face　and　smiled；　almost　her　first

smile　at　him；　and　such　a　sweet　smile！　as　more　besides　aunt　Fanny　have

said。　　In　an　hour　she　was　dead。　　Aunt　Fanny　came　to　live　with　us。　　It

was　the　best　thing　that　could　be　done。　　My　father　would　have　been

glad　to　return　to　his　old　mode　of　bachelor　life；　but　what　could　he　do

with　two　little　children？　　He　needed　a　woman　to　take　care　of　him；　and

who　so　fitting　as　his　wife's　elder　sister？　　So　she　had　the　charge　of

me　from　my　birth；　and　for　a　time　I　was　weakly；　as　was　but　natural；

and　she　was　always　beside　me；　night　and　day　watching　over　me；　and　my

father　nearly　as　anxious　as　she。　　For　his　land　had　come　down　from

father　to　son　for　more　than　three　hundred　years；　and　he　would　have

cared　for　me　merely　as　his　flesh　and　blood　that　was　t