malbone- an oldport romance[1].(马尔布恩)-第14章
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good…naturedly； and went out； whistling like a mocking…bird； to call the
children round him。
Toward the more wayward and impulsive Emilia the good lady was far
more merciful。 With all Aunt Jane's formidable keenness； she was a little
apt to be disarmed by youth and beauty； and had no very stern retributions
except for those past middle age。 Emilia especially charmed her while she
repelled。 There was no getting beyond a certain point with this strange
girl； any more than with Philip； but her depths tantalized； while his
apparent shallows were only vexatious。 Emilia was usually sweet；
winning； cordial； and seemed ready to glide into one's heart as softly as
she glided into the room； she liked to please； and found it very easy。 Yet
she left the impression that this smooth and delicate loveliness went but an
inch beyond the surface； like the soft； thin foam that enamels yonder tract
of ocean； belongs to it； is a part of it； yet is； after all； but a bequest of
tempests； and covers only a dark abyss of crossing currents and desolate
tangles of rootless kelp。 Everybody was drawn to her； yet not a soul took
any comfort in her。 Her very voice had in it a despairing sweetness； that
seemed far in advance of her actual history； it was an anticipated miserere；
a perpetual dirge； where nothing had yet gone down。 So Aunt Jane； who
was wont to be perfectly decisive in her treatment of every human being；
was fluctuating and inconsistent with Emilia。 She could not help being
fascinated by the motherless child； and yet scorned herself for even the
doubting love she gave。
〃Only think； auntie；〃 said Kate； 〃how you kissed Emilia； yesterday！〃
〃Of course I did；〃 she remorsefully owned。 〃I have kissed her a great
many times too often。 I never will kiss her again。 There is nothing but
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sorrow to be found in loving her； and her heart is no larger than her feet。
Today she was not even pretty！ If it were not for her voice； I think I should
never wish to see her again。〃
But when that soft； pleading voice came once more； and Emilia asked
perhaps for luncheon； in tones fit for Ophelia； Aunt Jane instantly yielded。
One might as well have tried to enforce indignation against the Babes in
the Wood。
This perpetual mute appeal was further strengthened by a peculiar
physical habit in Emilia； which first alarmed the household； but soon
ceased to inspire terror。 She fainted very easily； and had attacks at long
intervals akin to faintness； and lasting for several hours。 The physicians
pronounced them cataleptic in their nature； saying that they brought no
danger； and that she would certainly outgrow them。 They were sometimes
produced by fatigue； sometimes by excitement； but they brought no
agitation with them； nor any development of abnormal powers。 They
simply wrapped her in a profound repose； from which no effort could
rouse her； till the trance passed by。 Her eyes gradually closed； her voice
died away； and all movement ceased； save that her eyelids sometimes
trembled without opening； and sweet evanescent expressions chased each
other across her face；the shadows of thoughts unseen。 For a time she
seemed to distinguish the touch of different persons by preference or pain；
but soon even this sign of recognition vanished； and the household could
only wait and watch； while she sank into deeper and yet deeper repose。
There was something inexpressibly sweet； appealing； and touching in
this impenetrable slumber； when it was at its deepest。 She looked so young；
so delicate； so lovely； it was as if she had entered into a shrine； and some
sacred curtain had been dropped to shield her from all the cares and
perplexities of life。 She lived； she breathed； and yet all the storms of life
could but beat against her powerless； as the waves beat on the shore。 Safe
in this beautiful semblance of death；her pulse a little accelerated； her rich
color only softened； her eyelids drooping； her exquisite mouth curved into
the sweetness it had lacked in waking；she lay unconscious and supreme；
the temporary monarch of the household； entranced upon her throne。 A
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few hours having passed； she suddenly waked； and was a self…willed；
passionate girl once more。 When she spoke； it was with a voice wholly
natural； she had no recollection of what had happened； and no curiosity to
learn。
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CHAPTER X。
REMONSTRANCES。
IT had been a lovely summer day； with a tinge of autumnal coolness
toward nightfall； ending in what Aunt Jane called a 〃quince…jelly sunset。〃
Kate and Emilia sat upon the Blue Rocks； earnestly talking。
〃Promise； Emilia！〃 said Kate。
Emilia said nothing。
〃Remember；〃 continued Kate； 〃he is Hope's betrothed。 Promise；
promise； promise！〃
Emilia looked into Kate's face and saw it flushed with a generous
eagerness； that called forth an answering look in her。 She tried to speak；
and the words died into silence。 There was a pause； while each watched
the other。
When one soul is grappling with another for life； such silence may last
an instant too long； and Kate soon felt her grasp slipping。 Momentarily the
spell relaxed。 Other thoughts swelled up； and Emilia's eyes began to
wander； delicious memories stole in； of walks through blossoming paths
with Malbone；of lingering steps； half…stifled words and sentences left
unfinished；then； alas！ of passionate caresses；other blossoming paths
that only showed the way to sin； but had never quite led her there； she
fancied。 There was so much to tell； more than could ever be explained or
justified。 Moment by moment； farther and farther strayed the wandering
thoughts； and when the poor child looked in Kate's face again； the mist
between them seemed to have grown wide and dense； as if neither eyes
nor words nor hands could ever meet again。 When she spoke it was to say
something evasive and unimportant； and her voice was as one from the
grave。
In truth； Philip had given Emilia his heart to play with at Neuchatel；
that he might beguile her from an attachment they had all regretted。 The
device succeeded。 The toy once in her hand； the passionate girl had kept
it； had clung to him with all her might； he could not shake her off。 Nor was
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this the worst； for to his dismay he found himself responding to her love
with a self…abandonment of ardor for which all former loves had been but
a cool preparation。 He had not intended this； it seemed hardly his fault：
his intentions had been good； or at least not bad。 This piquant and
wonderful fruit of nature； this girlish soul； he had merely touched it and it
was his。 Its mere fragrance was intoxicating。 Good God！ what should he
do with it？
No clear answer coming； he had drifted on with that terrible facility for
which years of self…indulged emotion had prepared him。 Each step； while
it was intended to be the last； only made some other last step needful。
He had begun wrong； for he had concealed his engagement； fancying
that he could secure a stronger influence over this young girl without the
knowledge。 He had come to her simply as a friend of her Transatlantic
kindred； and she； who was always rather indifferent to them； asked no
questions； nor made the discovery till too late。 Then； indeed； she had
burst upon him with an impetuous despair that had alarmed him。 He feared；
not that she would do herself any violence； for she had a childish dread of
death； but that she would show some desperate animosity toward Hope；
whenever they should meet。 After a long struggle； he had touched； not her
sense of justice； for she had none； but her love for him； he had aroused her
tenderness and her pride。
Without his actual assurance； she yet believed that he would release
himself in some way from his betrothal； and love only her。
Malbone had fortunately great control over Emilia when near her； and
could thus keep the sight of this stormy passion from the pure and
unconscious Hope。 But a new distress opened before him； from the time
when he again touched Hope's hand。 The close intercourse of the voyage
had given him for the time almost a surfeit of the hot…house atmosphere of
Emilia's love。 The first contact of Hope's cool； smooth fingers； the soft
light of her clear eyes； the breezy grace of her motions； the rose…odors that
clung around her； brought back all his early passion。 Apart from this
voluptuousness of the heart into which he had fallen； Malbone's was a
simple and unspoiled nature； he had no vices； and had always won
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popularity too easily to be obliged to stoop for it； so all that was noblest in
him paid allegiance to Hope。 From the moment they again met； his
wayward heart reverted to her。 He had been in a dream； he said to
himself； he would conquer it and be only hers； he would go away with her
into the forests and green fields she loved； or he would share in the life of
usefulness for which she yearned。 But then； what was he to do with this
little waif from the heart's tropics；once tampered with； in an hour of mad
dalliance； and now adhering in…separably to his life？ Supposing him
ready to separate from her； could
