狄更斯的小说特点 狄更斯双语小说:《董贝父子》第30章Part 8

狄更斯双语小说:《董贝父子》第30章Part 8  

No bad representation of the body
for the nonce
in his unbending form
if not in his attitude
Mr Dombey looked down into the cold depths of the dead sea of mahogany on which the fruit dishes and decanters lay at anchor: as if the subjects of his thoughts were rising towards the surface one by one
and plunging down again. Edith was there In all her majesty of brow and figure; and close to her came Florence
with her timid head turned to him
as it had been
for an instant
when she left the room; and Edith's eyes upon her
and Edith's hand put out protectingly. A little figure in a low arm-chair came springing next into the light
and looked upon him wonderingly
with its bright eyes and its old-young face
gleaming as in the flickering of an evening fire. Again came Florence close upon it
and absorbed his whole attention. Whether as a fore-doomed difficulty and disappointment to him; whether as a rival who had crossed him in his way
and might again; whether as his child
of whom
in his successful wooing
he could stoop to think as claiming
at such a time
to be no more estranged; or whether as a hint to him that the mere appearance of caring for his own blood should be maintained in his new relations; he best knew. Indifferently well
perhaps
at best; for marriage pany and marriage altars
and ambitious scenes - still blotted here and there with Florence - always Florence - turned up so fast
and so confusedly
that he rose
and went upstairs to escape them.
It was quite late at night before candles were brought; for at present they made Mrs Skewton's head ache
she plained; and in the meantime Florence and Mrs Skewton talked together (Cleopatra being very anxious to keep her close to herself)
or Florence touched the piano softly for Mrs Skewton's delight; to make no mention of a few occasions in the course of the evening
when that affectionate lady was impelled to solicit another kiss
and which always happened after Edith had said anything. They were not many
however
for Edith sat apart by an open window during the whole time (in spite of her mother's fears that she would take cold)
and remained there until Mr Dombey took leave. He was serenely gracious to Florence when he did so; and Florence went to bed in a room within Edith's
so happy and hopeful
that she thought of her late self as if it were some other poor deserted girl who was to be pitied for her sorrow; and in her pity
sobbed herself to sleep.
The week fled fast. There were drives to milliners
dressmakers
jewellers
lawyers
florists
pastry-cooks; and Florence was always of the party. Florence was to go to the wedding. Florence was to cast off her mourning
and to wear a brilliant dress on the occasion. The milliner's intentions on the subject of this dress - the milliner was a Frenchwoman
and greatly resembled Mrs Skewton - were so chaste and elegant
that Mrs Skewton bespoke one like it for herself. The milliner said it would bee her to admiration
and that all the world would take her for the young lady's sister.
The week fled faster. Edith looked at nothing and cared for nothing. Her rich dresses came home
and were tried on
and were loudly mended by Mrs Skewton and the milliners
and were put away without a word from her. Mrs Skewton made their plans for every day
and executed them. Sometimes Edith sat in the carriage when they went to make purchases; sometimes
when it was absolutely necessary
she went into the shops. But Mrs Skewton conducted the whole business
whatever it happened to be; and Edith looked on as uninterested and with as much apparent indifference as if she had no concern in it. Florence might perhaps have thought she was haughty and listless
but that she was never so to her. So Florence quenched her wonder in her gratitude whenever it broke out
and soon subdued it.
The week fled faster. It had nearly winged its flight away. The last night of the week
the night before the marriage
was e. In the dark room - for Mrs Skewton's head was no better yet
though she expected to recover permanently to-morrow - were that lady
Edith
and Mr Dombey. Edith was at her open window looking out into the street; Mr Dombey and Cleopatra were talking softly on the sofa. It was growing late; and Florence
being fatigued
had gone to bed.