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Weir of Hermiston-Part2_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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man if a milestone were bound upon his back and him flung into the



deepestmost pairts of the sea."

"O, my lamb, ye must never say the like of that!" she cried. "Ye're to



honour faither and mother, dear, that your days may be long in the land.

It's Atheists that cry out against him - French Atheists, Erchie! Ye



would never surely even yourself down to be saying the same thing as

French Atheists? It would break my heart to think that of you. And O,



Erchie, here are'na YOU setting up to JUDGE? And have ye no forgot

God's plain command - the First with Promise, dear? Mind you upon the



beam and the mote!"

Having thus carried the war into the enemy's camp, the terrified lady



breathed again. And no doubt it is easy thus to circumvent a child with

catchwords, but it may be questioned how far it is effectual. An



instinct in his breast detects the quibble, and a voice condemns it. He

will instantly submit, privately hold the same opinion. For even in



this simple and antique relation of the mother and the child,

hypocrisies are multiplied.



When the Court rose that year and the family returned to Hermiston, it

was a common remark in all the country that the lady was sore failed.



She seemed to loose and seize again her touch with life, now sitting

inert in a sort of durablebewilderment, anon waking to feverish and



weak activity. She dawdled about the lasses at their work, looking

stupidly on; she fell to rummaging in old cabinets and presses, and



desisted when half through; she would begin remarks with an air of

animation and drop them without a struggle. Her common appearance was



of one who has forgotten something and is trying to remember; and when

she overhauled, one after another, the worthless and touching mementoes



of her youth, she might have been seeking the clue to that lost thought.

During this period, she gave many gifts to the neighbours and house



lasses, giving them with a manner of regret that embarrassed the

recipients.



The last night of all she was busy on some female work, and toiled upon

it with so manifest and painful a devotion that my lord (who was not



often curious) inquired as to its nature.

She blushed to the eyes. "O, Edom, it's for you!" she said. "It's



slippers. I - I hae never made ye any."

"Ye daft auld wife!" returned his lordship. "A bonny figure I would



be, palmering about in bauchles!"

The next day, at the hour of her walk, Kirstie interfered. Kirstie took



this decay of her mistress very hard; bore her a grudge, quarrelled with

and railed upon her, the anxiety of a genuine love wearing the disguise



of temper. This day of all days she insisted disrespectfully, with

rustic fury, that Mrs. Weir should stay at home. But, "No, no," she



said, "it's my lord's orders," and set forth as usual. Archie was

visible in the acre bog, engaged upon some childishenterprise, the



instrument of which was mire; and she stood and looked at him a while

like one about to call; then thought otherwise, sighed, and shook her



head, and proceeded on her rounds alone. The house lasses were at the

burnside washing, and saw her pass with her loose, weary, dowdy gait.



"She's a terrible feckless wife, the mistress!" said the one.

"Tut," said the other, "the wumman's seeck."



"Weel, I canna see nae differ in her," returned the first. "A

fushionless quean, a feckless carline."



The poor creature thus discussed rambled a while in the grounds without

a purpose. Tides in her mind ebbed and flowed, and carried her



to and fro like seaweed. She tried a path, paused, returned, and tried

another; questing, forgetting her quest; the spirit of choice extinct in



her bosom, or devoid of sequency. On a sudden, it appeared as though

she had remembered, or had formed a resolution, wheeled about, returned



with hurried steps, and appeared in the dining-room, where Kirstie was

at the cleaning, like one charged with an important errand.



"Kirstie!" she began, and paused; and then with conviction, "Mr. Weir

isna speeritually minded, but he has been a good man to me."



It was perhaps the first time since her husband's elevation that she had

forgotten the handle to his name, of which the tender, inconsistent



woman was not a little proud. And when Kirstie looked up at the

speaker's face, she was aware of a change.



"Godsake, what's the maitter wi' ye, mem?" cried the housekeeper,




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