bleak house(凄凉的房子)-第107章
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cousinship； as it is； they are almost all a little worsted by it； and
lounge in purposeless and listless paths； and seem to be quite as
much at a loss how to dispose of themselves； as anybody else can
be how to dispose of them。
In this society； and where not； my Lady Dedlock reigns
supreme。 Beautiful； elegant； accomplished； and powerful in her
little world （for the world of fashion does not stretch all the way
from pole to pole）； her influence in Sir Leicester’s house； however
haughty and indifferent her manner； is greatly to improve it and
refine it。 The cousins； even those older cousins who were
paralysed when Sir Leicester married her； do her feudal homage；
and the Honourable Bob Stables daily repeats to some chosen
person； between breakfast and lunch； his favourite original
remark that she is the best…groomed woman in the whole stud。
Such the guests in the long drawing…room at Chesney Wold this
dismal night； when the step on the Ghost’s Walk （inaudible here；
however）； might be the step of a deceased cousin shut out in the
cold。 It is near bedtime。 Bedroom fires blaze brightly all over the
house； raising ghosts of grim furniture on wall and ceiling。
Bedroom candlesticks bristle on the distant table by the door； and
cousins yawn on ottomans。 Cousins at the piano； cousins at the
soda…water tray； cousins rising from the card…table； cousins
gathered round the fire。 Standing on one side of his own peculiar
fire （for there are two）； Sir Leicester。 On the opposite side of the
broad hearth； my Lady at her table。 Volumnia； as one of the more
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privileged cousins； in a luxurious chair between them。 Sir
Leicester glancing； with magnificent displeasure； at the rouge and
the pearl necklace。
“I occasionally meet on my staircase here；” drawls Volumnia；
whose thoughts perhaps are already hopping up it to bed； after a
long evening of a very desultory talk； “one of the prettiest girls； I
think； that I ever saw in my life。”
“A protegée of my Lady’s；” observes Sir Leicester。
“I thought so。 I felt sure that some uncommon eye must have
picked that girl out。 She really is a marvel。 A dolly sort of beauty
perhaps；” says Miss Volumnia； reserving her own sort； “but in its
way； perfect； such bloom I never saw！”
Sir Leicester with his magnificent glance of displeasure at the
rouge； appears to say so too。
“Indeed；” remarks my Lady； languidly； “if there is any
uncommon eye in the case； it is Mrs Rouncewell’s； and not mine。
Rosa is her discovery。”
“Your maid； I suppose？”
“No。 My anything； pet—secretary—messenger—I don’t know
what。”
“You like to have her about you； as you would like to have a
flower； or a bird； or a picture； or a poodle—no； not a poodle；
though—or anything else that was equally pretty？” says Volumnia；
sympathising。 “Yes； how charming now！ and how well that
delightful old soul Mrs Rouncewell is looking。 She must be an
immense age； and yet she is as active and handsome！—She is the
dearest friend I have； positively！”
Sir Leicester feels it to be right and fitting that the housekeeper
of Chesney Wold should be a remarkable person。 Apart from that；
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he has a real regard for Mrs Rouncewell； and likes to hear her
praised。 So he says； “You are right； Volumnia；” which Volumnia is
extremely glad to hear。
“She has no daughter of her own； has she？”
“Mrs Rouncewell？ No； Volumnia。 She has a son。 Indeed； she
had two。”
My Lady； whose chronic malady of boredom has been sadly
aggravated by Volumnia this evening； glances wearily towards the
candlesticks and heaves a noiseless sigh。
“And it is a remarkable example of the confusion into which the
present age has fallen； of the obliteration of landmarks； the
opening of floodgates； and the uprooting of distinctions；” says Sir
Leicester with stately gloom； “that I have been informed； by Mr
Tulkinghorn； that Mrs Rouncewell’s son has been invited to go
into Parliament。”
Miss Volumnia utters a little sharp scream。
“Yes； indeed；” repeats Sir Leicester。 “Into Parliament。”
“I never heard of such a thing！ Good gracious； what is the
man？” exclaims Volumnia。
“He is called； I believe—an—Ironmaster。” Sir Leicester says it
slowly； and with gravity and doubt； as not being sure but that he is
called a Lead…mistress； or that the right word may be some other
word expressive of some other relationship to some other metal。
Volumnia utters another little scream。
“He has declined the proposal； if my information from Mr
Tulkinghorn be correct； as I have no doubt it is； Mr Tulkinghorn
being always correct and exact； still that does not；” says Sir
Leicester； “that does not lessen the anomaly； which is fraught with
strange considerations—startling considerations； as it appears to
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me。”
Miss Volumnia rising with a look candlestick…wards； Sir
Leicester politely performs the grand tour of the drawing…room；
brings one； and lights it at my Lady’s shaded lamp。
“I must beg you； my Lady；” he says while doing so； “to remain a
few moments； for this individual of whom I speak； arrived this
evening shortly before dinner； and requested—in a very becoming
note；” Sir Leicester； with his habitual regard to truth； dwells upon
it； “I am bound to say； in a very becoming and well expressed
note—the favour of a short interview with yourself and myself； on
the subject of this young girl。 As it appeared that he wished to
depart tonight； I replied that we would see him before retiring。”
Miss Volumnia with a third little scream takes flight； wishing
her hosts—O Lud！—well rid of the—what is it？—Ironmaster！
The other cousins soon disperse； to the last cousin there。 Sir
Leicester rings the bell。 “Make my compliments to Mr
Rouncewell； in the housekeeper’s apartments； and say I can
receive him now。”
My Lady； who has heard all this with slight attention outwardly；
looks towards Mr Rouncewell as he comes in。 He is a little over
fifty perhaps； of a good figure； like his mother； and has a clear
voice； a broad forehead from which his dark hair has retired； and a
shrewd； though open face。 He is a responsible…looking gentleman
dressed in black； portly enough； but strong and active。 Has a
perfectly natural and easy air； and is not in the least embarrassed
by the great presence into which he comes。
“Sir Leicester and Lady Dedlock； as I have already apologised
for intruding on you； I cannot do better than be very brief。 I thank
you； Sir Leicester。”
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The head of the Dedlocks has motioned towards a sofa between
himself and my Lady。 Mr Rouncewell quietly takes his seat there。
“In these busy times； when so many great undertakings are in
progress； people like myself have so many workmen in so many
places； that we are always on the flight。”
Sir Leicester is content enough that the ironmaster should feel
that there is no hurry there； there； in that ancient house； rooted in
that quiet park； where the ivy and the moss have had time to
mature； and the gnarled and warted elms； and the umbrageous
oaks； stand deep in the fern and leaves of a hundred years； and
where the sundial on the terrace has dumbly recorded for
centuries that time； which was as much the property of every
Dedlock—while he lasted—as the house and lands。 Sir Leicester
sits down in an easy chair； opposing his repose and that of
Chesney Wold to the restless flights of ironmasters。
“Lady Dedlock has been so kind；” proceeds Mr Rouncewell；
with a respectful glance and a bow that way； “as to place near her
a young beauty of the name of Rosa。 Now； my son has fallen in
love with Rosa； and has asked my consent to his proposing
marriage to her； and to their becoming engaged if she will take
him—which I suppose she will。 I have never seen Rosa until today；
but I have some confidence in my son’s good sense—even in love。 I
find her what he represents her； to the best of my judgment； and
my mother speaks of her with great commendation。”
“She in all respects deserves it；” says my Lady。
“I am happy； Lady Dedlock； that you say so； and I need not
comment on the value to me of your kind opinion of her。”
“That；” observes Sir Leicester； with unspeakable grandeur； for
he thinks the ironmaster a little too glib； “must be quite
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unnecessary。”
“Quite unnecessary； Sir Leicester。 Now； my son is a very young
man； and Rosa is a very young woman。 As I made my way； so my
son must make his； and his being married at present is out of the
question。
