the heir of redclyffe- 第91部分

of　scenery。'



'I　think；'　said　Guy；　looking　up　from　his　letter；　'I　should　be　more　

unwilling　to　take　a　man　like　that　to　interpret　nature　than　anything　

else；　except　Scripture。　　It　is　more　profane　to　attempt　it。'



'I　see　what　you　mean；'　said　Amabel；　thoughtfully。



'More　than　I　do；'　said　Philip。　'I　never　supposed　you　would　take　my　

advice　〃au　pied　de　la　lettre〃；'　he　had　almost　added；　'perversely。'



'I　have　felt　my　obligations　for　that　caution　ever　since　I　have　come　to　

some　knowledge　of　what　Byron　was；'　said　Guy。



'The　fascination　of　his　〃Giaour〃　heroes　has　an　evil　influence　on　some　

minds；'　said　Philip。　　'I　think　you　do　well　to　avoid　it。　　The　half　

truth；　resulting　from　its　being　the　effect　of　self…contemplation；　makes　

it　more　dangerous。'



'True；'　said　Guy；　though　he　little　knew　how　much　he　owed　to　having　

attended　to　that　caution；　for　who　could　have　told　where　the　mastery　

might　have　been　in　the　period　of　fearful　conflict　with　his　passions；　if　

he　had　been　feeding　his　imagination　with　the　contemplation　of　revenge；　

dark　hatred；　and　malice；　and　identifying　himself　with　Byron's　brooding　

and　lowering　heroes！



'But；'　continued　Philip；　'I　cannot　see　why　you　should　shun　the　fine　

descriptions　which　are　almost　classicalthe　Bridge　of　Sighs；　the　

Gladiator。'



'He　may　describe　the　gladiator　as　much　as　he　pleases；'　said　Guy；　

'indeed　there　is　something　noble　in　that　indignant　line





　　　　　　　　　Butchered　to　make　a　Roman　holiday；





but　that　is　not　like　his　meddling　with　these　mountains　or　the　sea。'



'Fine　description　is　the　point　in　both。　　You　are　over…drawing。'



'My　notion　is　this；'　said　Guy；'there　is　danger　in　listening　to　a　man　

who　is　sure　to　misunderstand　the　voice　of　nature；danger；　lest　by　

filling　our　ears　with　the　wrong　voice　we　should　close　them　to　the　true　

one。　　I　should　think　there　was　a　great　chance　of　being　led　to　stop　

short　at　the　material　beauty；　or　worse；　to　link　human　passions　with　the　

glories　of　nature；　and　so　distort；　defile；　profane　them。'



'You　have　never　read　the　poem；　so　you　cannot　judge；'　said　Philip；　

thinking　this　extremely　fanciful　and　ultra…fastidious。　'Your　rule　would　

exclude　all　descriptive　poetry；　unless　it　was　written　by　angels；　I　

suppose？'



'No；　by　men　with　minds　in　the　right　direction。'



'Very　little　you　would　leave　us。'



'I　don't　think　so；'　said　Amabel。　　'Almost　all　the　poetry　we　really　care　

about　was　written　by　such　men。'



'Shakspeare；　for　instance？'



'No　one　can　doubt　of　the　bent　of　his　mind　from　the　whole　strain　of　his　

writings；'　said　Guy。　　'So　again　with　Spenser；　and　as　to　Milton；　though　

his　religion　was　not　quite　the　right　sort；　no　one　can　pretend　to　say　he　

had　it　not。　　Wordsworth；　Scott'



'Scott？'　said　Philip。



'Including　the　descriptions　of　scenery　in　his　novels；'　said　Amy；　

'where；　I　am　sure；　there　is　the　spirit　and　the　beauty。'



'Or　rather；　the　spirit　is　the　beauty；'　said　Guy。



'There　is　a　good　deal　in　what　you　say；'　answered　Philip；　who　would　not　

lay　himself　open　to　the　accusation　of　being　uncandid；　'but　you　will　

forgive　me　for　thinking　it　rather　too　deep　an　explanation　of　the　

grounds　of　not　making　Childe　Harold　a　hand…book　for　Italy；　like　other　

people。'



Amabel　thought　this　so　dogged　and　provoking；　that　she　was　out　of　

patience；　but　Guy　only　laughed；　and　said；　'Rather　so；　considering　that　

the　fact　was　that　we　never　thought　of　it。'



There　were　times　when；　as　Philip　had　once　said；　good　temper　annoyed　him　

more　than　anything；　and　perhaps　he　was　unconsciously　disappointed　at　

having　lost　his　old　power　of　fretting　and　irritating　Guy；　and　watching　

him　champ　the　bit；　so　as　to　justify　his　own　opinion　of　him。　　Every　

proceeding　of　his　cousins　seemed　to　give　him　annoyance；　more　especially　

their　being　at　home　together；　and　Guy's　seeming　to　belong　more　to　

Hollywell　than　himself。　　He　sat　by；　with　a　book；　and　watched　them；　as　

Guy　asked　for　Laura's　letter；　and　Amy　came　to　look　over　his　half…

finished　answer；　laughing　over　it；　and　giving　her　commands　and　

messages；　looking　so　full　of　playfulness　and　happiness；　as　she　stood　

with　one　hand　on　the　back　of　her　husband's　chair；　and　the　other　holding　

the　letter；　and　Guy　watching　her　amused　face；　and　answering　her　remarks　

with　lively　words　and　bright　smiles。　　'People　who　looked　no　deeper　than　

the　surface　would；　say；　what　a　well…matched　pair；'　thought　Philip；　'and　

no　doubt　they　were　very　happy；　poor　young　things；　if　it　would　but　

last。'　　Here　Guy　turned；　and　asked　him　a　question　about　the　line　of　

perpetual　snow；　so　much　in　his　own　style；　that　he　was　almost　ready　to　

accuse　them　of　laughing　at　him。　　Next　　came　what　hurt　him　most　of　all；　

as　they　talked　over　Charles's　letter；　and　a　few　words　passed　about　

Laura；　and　the　admiration　of　some　person　she　had　met　at　Allonby。　　The　

whole　world　was　welcome　to　admire　her：　nothing　could　injure　his　hold　on　

her　heart；　and　no　joke　of　Charles　could　shake　his　confidence；　but　it　

was　hard　that　he　should　be　forced　to　hear　such　things；　and　ask　no　

questions；　for　they　evidently　thought　him　occupied　with　his　book；　and　

did　not　intend　him　to　listen。　　The　next　thing　they　said；　however；　

obliged　him　to　show　that　he　was　attending；　for　it　was　about　her　being　

better。



'Who？　　Laura！'　he　said；　in　a　tone　that；　in　spite　of　himself；　had　a　

startled　sound。　　'You　did　not　say　she　had　been　ill？'



'No；　she　has　not；'　said　Amy。　　'Dr。　Mayerne　said　there　was　nothing　

really　the　matter：　but　she　has　been　worried　and　out　of　spirits　lately；　

and　mamma　thought　it　would　be　good　for　her　to　go　out　more。'



Philip　would　not　let　himself　sigh；　in　spite　of　the　oppressing　

consciousness　of　having　brought　the　cloud　over　her；　and　of　his　own　

inability　to　do　aught　but　leave　her　to　endure　it　in　silence　and　

patience。　　Alas！　for　how　long！　　Obliged；　meanwhile；　to　see　these　young　

creatures；　placed；　by　the　mere　factitious　circumstance　of　wealth；　in　

possession　of　happiness　which　they　had　not　had　time　either　to　earn　or　

to　appreciate。　　He　thought　it　shallow；　because　of　their　mirth　and　

gaiety；　as　if　they　were　only　seeking　food　for　laughter；　finding　it　in　

mistakes；　for　which　he　was　ready　to　despise　them。



Arnaud　had　brought　rather　antiquated　notions　to　the　renewal　of　his　

office　as　a　courier：　his　mind　had　hardly　opened　to　railroads　and　

steamers；　and　changes　had　come　over　hotels　since　his　time。　　Guy　and　

Amabel；　both　young　and　healthy；　caring　little　about　bad　dinners；　and　

unwilling　to　tease　the　old　man　by　complaints；　or　alterations　of　his　

arrangements；　had　troubled　themselves　little　about　the　matter；　took　

things　as　they　found　them；　ate　dry　bread　when　the　cookery　was　bad；　

walked　if　the　road　was　'shocking'；　went　away　the　sooner；　if　the　inns　

were　'intolerable'；　made　merry　over　every　inconvenience；　and　turned　it　

into　an　excellent　story　for　Charles。　　They　did　not　even　distress　

themselves　about　sights　which　they　had　missed　seeing。



Philip　thought　all　this　very　foolish　and　absurd；　showing　that　they　were　

unfit　to　take　care　of　themselves；　and　that　Guy　was　neglectful　of　his　

wife's　comforts：　in　short；　establishing　his　original　opinion　of　their　

youth　and　folly。



So　passed　the　first　evening；　perhaps　the　worst　because；　besides　what　he　

had　heard　about　Laura；　he　had　been　somewhat　over…fatigued　by　various　

hot　days'　walks。



Certain　it　is；　that　next　morning　he　was　not　nearly　so　much　inclined　to　

be　displeased　with　them　for　laughing；　when；　in　speaking　to　Anne；　he　

inadvertently　called　her　mistress　Miss　Amabel。



'Never　mind；'　said　Amy；　as　Anne　departedand　he　looked　disconcerted；　

as　a　precise　man　always　does　when　catching　himself　in　a　mistake'Anne　

is　used　to　it；　Guy　is　always　doing　it；　and　puzzles　poor　Arnaud　sorely　

by　sending　him　for　Miss　Amabel's　parasol。'



'And　the　other　day；'　said　Guy；　'when　Thorndale's　brother；　at　Munich；　

inquired　after　Lady　Morville；　I　had　to　consider　who　she　was。'



'Oh！　you　saw　Thorndale's　brother；　did　you？'



'Yes；　he　was　very　obliging。　　Guy　had　to　go　to　him　about　our　passports：　

and　when　he　found　who　we　were；　he　brought　his　wife　to　call　on　us；　and　

asked　us　to　an　evening　party。'



'Did　you　go？'



'Guy　thought　we　must；　and　it　was　very　entertaining。　　We　had　a　curious　

adventure　there。　　In　the　morning；　we　had　been　looking　at　those　

beautiful　windows　of　the　great　church；　when　I　turned　round；　and　saw　a　

gentlemanan　Englishmangazing　with　all　his　might　at　Guy。　　We　met　

again　in　the　evening；　and　presently　Mr。　Thorndale　came　and　told　us　it　

was　Mr。　Shene。'　



'Shene；　the　painter？'



'Yes。　　He　had　been　very　much　struck　with　Guy's　face：　it　was　exactly　

what　he　wanted　for　a　picture　he　was　about；　and　he　wished　of　all　things　

just　to　be　allowed　to　make　a　sketch。'



'Did　you　submit？'



'Yes'　said　Guy；　'and　we　were　rewarded。　　I　never　saw　a　more　agreeable　

person；　or　one　who　gave　so　entirely　the　impression　of　genius。　　The　next　

day　he　took　us　through　the　gallery；　and　showed　us　all　that　was　worth　

admiring。'



'And　in　what　character　is　he　to　make　you　appear？'



'That　is　the　strange　part　of　it；'　said　Amabel。　　'Don't　you　remember　how　

Guy　once　puzzled　us　by　choosing　Sir　Galahad　for　his　favourite　hero？　　It　

is　that　very　Sir　Galahad；　when　he　kneels　to　adore　the　Saint　Greal。'



'Mr。　Shene　said　he　had　long　been　dreaming　over　it；　and　at　last；　as　he　

saw　Guy's　face　looking　upwards；　it　struck　him　that　it　was　just　what　he　

wanted：　it　would　be　worth　anything　to　him　to　catch　the　expression。'



'I　wonder　what　I　was　looking　like！'　ejaculated　Guy。



'Did　he　take　you　as　yourself；　or　as　Sir　Galahad？'



'As　myself；　happily。'



'How　did　he　succeed？'



'Amy　likes　it；　but　decidedly　I　should　never　have　known　myself。'



'Ah；'　said　his　wife





　　　　　　　　　'Could　some　fay　the　giftie　gie　us；

　　　　　　　　　To　see　ourselves　as　others　see　us。'





'As　far　as　the　sun…burnt　visage　is　con