双城记 查尔斯·狄更斯-第48部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


‘And　so；'　said　Mr。　Lorry；　who　could　not　sufficiently　admire　the　bride；　and　who　had　been　moving　round　her　to　take　in　every　point　of　her　quiet；　pretty　dress；　‘and　so　it　was　for　this；　my　sweet　Lucie；　that　I　brought　you　across　the　Channel；　such　a　baby！　Lord　bless　me！　How　little　I　thought　what　I　was　doing！　How　lightly　I　valued　the　obligation　I　was　conferring　on　my　friend　Mr。　Charles！'
‘You　didn't　mean　it；'　remarked　the　matter…of…fact　Miss　Pross；　‘and　therefore　how　could　you　know　it？　Nonsense！'
‘Really？　Well；　but　don't　cry；'　said　the　gentle　Mr。　Lorry。　
‘I　am　not　crying；'　said　Miss　Pross；　‘you　are。
‘I；　my　Pross？'　（By　this　time；　Mr。　Lorry　dared　to　be　pleasant　with　her；　on　occasion。）
‘You　were；　just　now；　I　saw　you　do　it；　and　I　don't　wonder　at　it。　Such　a　present　of　plate　as　you　have　made　‘em；　is　enough　to　bring　tears　into　anybody's　eyes。　There's　not　a　fork　or　a　spoon　in　the　collection；'　said　Miss　Pross；　‘that　I　didn't　cry　over；　last　night　after　the　box　came；　till　I　couldn't　see　it。'
‘I　am　highly　gratified；'　said　Mr。　Lorry；　‘though；　upon　my　honour；　I　had　no　intention　of　rendering　those　trifling　articles　of　remembrance　invisible　to　any　one。　Dear　me！　This　is　an　occasion　that　makes　a　man　speculate　on　all　he　has　lost。　Dear；　dear；　dear！　To　think　that　there　might　have　been　a　Mrs。　Lorry；　any　time　these　fifty　years　almost！'
‘Not　at　all！'　From　Miss　Pross。
‘You　think　there　never　might　have　been　a　Mrs。　Lorry？'　asked　the　gentleman　of　that　name。
‘Pooh！'　rejoined　Miss　Pross；　‘you　were　a　bachelor　in　your　cradle。'　
‘Well！'　observed　Mr。　Lorry；　beamingly　adjusting　his　little　wig；　‘that　seems　probable；　too。
‘And　you　were　cut　out　for　a　bachelor；'　pursued　Miss　Pross；　‘before　you　were　put　in　your　cradle。'
‘Then；　I　think；'　said　Mr。　Lorry；　‘that　I　was　very　unhandsomely　dealt　with；　and　that　I　ought　to　have　had　a　voice　in　the　selection　of　my　pattern。　Enough！　Now；　my　dear　Lucie；'　drawing　his　arm　soothingly　round　her　waist；　‘I　hear　them　moving　in　the　next　room；　and　Miss　Pross　and　I；　as　two　formal　folks　of　business；　are　anxious　not　to　lose　the　final　opportunity　of　saying　something　to　you　that　you　wish　to　hear。　You　leave　your　good　father；　my　dear；　in　hands　as　earnest　and　as　loving　as　your　own；　he　shall　be　taken　every　conceivable　care　of；　during　the　next　fortnight；　while　you　are　in　Warwickshire　and　thereabouts；　even　Tellson's　shall　go　to　the　wall　（paratively　speaking）　before　him。　And　when；　at　the　fortnight's　end；　he　es　to　join　you　and　your　beloved　husband；　on　your　other　fortnight's　trip　in　Wales；　you　shall　say　that　we　have　sent　him　to　you　in　the　best　health　and　in　the　happiest　frame。　Now　I　hear　Somebody's　step　ing　to　the　door。　Let　me　kiss　my　dear　girl　with　an　old…fashioned　bachelor　blessing；　before　Somebody　es　to　claim　his　own。'
For　a　moment；　he　held　the　fair　face　from　him　to　look　at　the　well…remembered　expression　on　the　forehead；　and　then　laid　the　bright　golden　hair　against　his　little　brown　wig；　with　a　genuine　tenderness　and　delicacy　which；　if　such　things　be　old…fashioned；　were　as　old　as　Adam。
The　door　of　the　Doctor's　room　opened；　and　he　came　out　with　Charles　Darnay。　He　was　so　deadly　pale……which　had　not　been　the　case　when　they　went　in　together……that　no　vestige　of　colour　was　to　be　seen　in　his　face。　But；　in　the　posure　of　his　manner　he　was　unaltered；　except　that　to　the　shrewd　glance　of　Mr。　Lorry　it　disclosed　some　shadowy　indication　that　the　old　air　of　avoidance　and　dread　had　lately　passed　over　him；　like　a　cold　wind。
He　gave　his　arm　to　his　daughter；　and　took　her　downstairs　to　the　chariot　which　Mr。　Lorry　had　hired　in　honour　of　the　day。　The　rest　followed　in　another　carriage；　and　soon；　in　a　neighbouring　church；　where　no　strange　eyes　looked　on；　Charles　Darnay　and　Lucie　Manette　were　happily　married。
Besides　the　glancing　tears　that　shone　among　the　smiles　of　the　little　group　when　it　was　done；　some　diamonds；　very　bright　and　sparkling；　glanced　on　the　bride's　hand；　which　were　newly　released　from　the　dark　obscurity　of　one　of　Mr。　Lorry's　pockets。　They　returned　home　to　breakfast；　and　all　went　well；　and　in　due　course　the　golden　hair　that　had　mingled　with　the　poor　shoemaker's　white　locks　in　the　Paris　garret；　were　mingled　with　them　again　in　the　morning　sunlight；　on　the　threshold　of　the　door　at　parting。
It　was　a　hard　parting；　though　it　was　not　for　long。　But　her　father　cheered　her；　and　said　at　last；　gently　disengaging　himself　from　her　enfolding　arms；　‘Take　her；　Charles！　She　is　yours！'
And　her　agitated　hand　waved　to　them　from　a　chaise　window；　and　she　was　gone。
The　corner　being　out　of　the　way　of　the　idle　and　curious；　and　the　preparations　having　been　very　simple　and　few；　the　Doctor；　Mr。　Lorry；　and　Miss　Pross；　were　left　quite　alone。　It　was　when　they　turned　into　the　wele　shade　of　the　cool　old　hall；　that　Mr。　Lorry　observed　a　great　change　to　have　e　over　the　Doctor；　as　if　the　golden　arm　uplifted　there；　had　struck　him　a　poisoned　blow。
He　had　naturally　repressed　much；　and　some　revulsion　might　have　been　expected　in　him　when　the　occasion　for　repression　was　gone。　But；　it　was　the　old　scared　lost　look　that　troubled　Mr。　Lorry；　and　through　his　absent　manner　of　clasping　his　head'　and　drearily　wandering　away　into　his　own　room　when　they　got　up…stairs；　Mr。　Lorry　was　reminded　of　Defarge　the　wine…shop　keeper；　and　the　starlight　ride。
‘I　think；'　he　whispered　to　Miss　Pross；　after　anxious　consideration；　‘I　think　we　had　best　not　speak　to　him　just　now；　or　at　all　disturb　him。　I　must　look　in　at　Tellson's；　so　I　will　go　there　at　once　and　e　back　presently。　Then；　we　will　take　him　a　ride　into　the　country；　and　dine　there；　and　all　will　be　well。'
It　was　easier　for　Mr。　Lorry　to　look　in　at　Tellson's；　than　to　look　out　of　Tellson's。　He　was　detained　two　hours。　When　he　came　back；　he　ascended　the　old　staircase　alone；　having　asked　no　question　of　the　servant；　going　thus　into　the　Doctors　rooms；　he　was　stopped　by　a　low　sound　of　knocking。
‘Good　God！'　he　said；　with　a　start。　‘What's　that？'
Miss　Pross；　with　a　terrified　face；　was　at　his　ear。　‘O　me；　O　me！　All　is　lost！'　cried　she；　wringing　her　hands。　‘What　is　to　be　told　to　Ladybird？　He　doesn't　know　me；　and　is　making　shoes！'
Mr。　Lorry　said　what　he　could　to　calm　her；　and　went　himself　into　the　Doctor's　room。　The　bench　was　turned　towards　the　light；　as　it　had　been　when　he　had　seen　the　shoemaker　at　his　work　before；　and　his　head　was　bent　down；　and　he　was　very　busy。
‘Doctor　Manette。　My　dear　friend；　Doctor　Manette！'
The　Doctor　looked　at　him　for　a　moment……half　inquiringly；　half　as　if　he　were　angry　at　being　spoken　to……and　bent　over　his　work　again。
He　had　laid　aside　his　coat　and　waistcoat；　his　shirt　was　open　at　the　throat；　as　it　used　to　be　when　he　did　that　work；　and　even　the　old　haggard；　faded　surface　of　face　had　e　back　to　him。　He　worked　hard……impatiently……as　if　in　some　sense　of　having　been　interrupted。
Mr。　Lorry　glanced　at　the　work　in　his　hand；　and　observed　that　it　was　a　shoe　of　the　old　size　and　shape。　He　took　up　another　that　was　lying　by　him；　and　asked　what　it　was？
‘A　young　lady's　walking　shoe；'　he　muttered；　without　looking　up'　‘It　ought　to　have　been　finished　long　ago。　Let　it　be。'
‘But；　Doctor　Manette。　Look　at　me'
He　obeyed；　in　the　old　mechanically　submissive　manner；　without　pausing　in　his　work。
‘You　know　me；　my　dear　friend？　Think　again。　This　is　not　your　proper　occupation。　Think；　dear　friend！'
Nothing　would　induce　him　to　speak　more。　He　looked　up；　for　an　instant　at　a　time；　when　he　was　requested　to　do　so；　but；　no　persuasion　would　extract　a　word　from　him。　He　worked；　and　worked；　and　worked；　in　silence；　and　words　fell　on　him　as　they　would　have　fallen　on　an　echoless　wall；　or　on　the　air。　The　only　ray　of　hope　that　Mr。　Lorry　could　discover；　was；　that　he　sometimes　furtively　looked　up　without　being　asked。　In　that；　there　seemed　a　faint　expression　of　curiosity　or　perplexity……as　though　he　were　trying　to　reconcile　some　doubts　in　his　mind。
Two　things　at　once　impressed　themselves　on　Mr。　Lorry；　as　important　above　all　others；　the　first；　that　this　must　be　kept　secret　from　Lucie；　the　second　that　it　must　be　kept　secret　from　all　who　knew　him。　In　conjunction　with　Miss　Pross；　he　took　immediate　steps　towards　the　latter　precaution；　by　giving　out　that　the　Doctor　was　not　well；　and　required　a　few　days　of　plete　rest。　In　aid　of　the　kind　deception　to　be　practised　on　his　daughter；　Miss　Pross　was　to　write；　descr