David Copperfield

Chapter 117

Chapter 56 Old and New Worries

Steerforth, when we last spoke together (and I never thought it would be our farewell), there was no need to say, "Thinking of my best days," for I have always done so.However, how can I say that after seeing this scene with my own eyes?

They got a mortuary, put him on it, and carried him to a place where people lived.

I hope to have my old friend's body transported overnight to London.Only I can take on the burden of caring for a deceased friend and informing his mother.I also want to be able to do this as faithfully as possible.

In order to avoid attracting the attention of some troublemakers, I chose to leave the town at night.

When I came to Haguet, it was mid-autumn noon, thinking about what I should do as I walked.I parked the car behind and stood by before continuing on.

The house was still the same, the curtains were still drawn, and the courtyard leading to the long-disused door was lifeless.The wind died down, and everything in the courtyard was still.

When I rang the bell, the little maid opened the door and asked:

"What happened, sir?—Mr. James?—"

"Hush, keep your voice down!" I motioned. "Something has happened, and I must speak to Mrs. Steerforth myself. Is she home?"

The girl told me that her master seldom goes out and rides in the car very occasionally. She doesn't have many guests, but she may be willing to see me.She said the old lady was up and was with Miss Dartle.She asked me how to inform? I told her not to show any signs in words, just send in my business card and tell me to wait downstairs.Then I sat down in the living room and waited for her to come back.

It was very quiet in the room, even the slight footsteps of the maid going upstairs could be heard clearly.When she came back, she said that Mrs Steerforth was too old and ill to come down, but she would be glad to invite me to see her in her bedroom.I go upstairs.

It turned out that she was staying in his bedroom, not in her own room.It seemed to me that she lived here unquestionably out of thinking about him.Moreover, the sports and games he used in the past are still displayed around her as souvenirs, which further confirmed my guess.However, she explained that the reason for not staying in her room was that the orientation of that room was not suitable for her recovery from illness.Her demeanor is solemn, and no one can doubt her words.

Beside her chair, as usual, stood Miss Dartle.From the first moment her eyes fixed on mine, I felt that she saw that I was not here to announce the good news.Her scar also became apparent when she first glanced at me.She looked at me with a piercing, piercing gaze.

"I am sorry that you are in mourning, sir," said Mrs Steerforth.

"Unfortunately my wife died," I said.

"It hurts so much at your young age," she continued. "It breaks my heart even to hear it. I just hope that your grief will lessen as time goes by."

"I hope the time," I said, looking at her, "will lighten our sorrows for all of us. My dear Mrs. Steerforth, that is all we can think of when we are at our worst."

I was serious, with tears in my eyes, which surprised her.She looked as if she desperately needed to rediscover the meaning of my words.

I tried my best to control my voice, trying to say his name smoothly and gently, but my voice still trembled uncontrollably.she said to me:

"My son, are you sick?"

"Very ill."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes."

"Have you made peace again?"

I am noncommittal.She turned her head slightly to where Miss Dartle had just stood.Suddenly, I hinted to Rosa Dartle, "Dead!"

In order to prevent Mrs. Steerforth from noticing my little gesture, and realizing that she was not ready enough, I met her eyes again.However, I have clearly seen Rosa Dartle stretching her hands in the air with a frightened expression, and then covering her face and refusing to let go.

The handsome old lady - so much like him - looked at me blankly, and put her hand on her forehead, as if transfixed.I advised her to be ready to accept what I said.

"The last time I was in this place," said I, "Miss Dartle told me he was sailing about in a ship. The night before was very rough and terrible. He was at sea that night, and near a dangerous coast, If the boat anyone saw was indeed his—”

"Rosa!" cried Mrs. Steerforth, "come before my eyes!"

She came, but without sympathy or comfort.

"At last," she said, "are you satisfied, you crazy woman? Now he pays his debt to you!—with his life, he pays his debt! Do you hear?—with his life!"

Mrs. Steerforth was stretched out in her chair, looking at her with wide open eyes.

"Oh!" cried Rosa, "look at me, cry, cry, look at me! Look here!" She scratched her scar, "look at what your dead son did to me !"

The mother's groans pierced my heart.That moan was always unclear and depressing, accompanied by weak shaking of the head and a stiff face.

"Do you remember when he did it?" she went on. "Do you remember? He did it because he inherited your bad temper, and because you loved and indulged him. Disfigured me for life? Look at me, dying with the scars he gave me. Moan, laugh, you made him look like this!"

"Miss Dartle," I begged her, "for God's sake—"

"I must say!" she said to me, "you be silent! Look at me! I say, you proud mother, raised a son who is both proud and hypocritical! You brought him up, moaning Go! You spoiled him, moan! You abandoned your beloved son, moan! I lost him too, moan!"

"It's you who hate him for being unrestrained!" she cried. "It's you who was hurt by his arrogance! He looks like this now. Now, your years of hard work have finally been compensated, right?"

"Miss Dartle, this is outrageous! It's vicious!"

"Let me tell you," she went on, "I must tell you today. I stand here, and no other power can stop me! I have not complained for many years. Have I no right to say now? ?I love him more than you have ever been!” She said fiercely to her, “I love him without asking for compensation. If I were his woman, even if he only said one love word to me a year, I would Will follow his moody temperament, and be his slave. I will, I know it very well! You are bitter, selfish, arrogant, critical, my love-until death, Able to trample your worthless groans underfoot!

"Look!" she said, slapping her scar hard again, "Once he understands what he's doing, he'll regret it. I can sing to him, talk to him, and love what he's doing. , trying to learn what he is interested in. And he did have feelings for me. He loved me when he was the most innocent and true. It is true that he loved me! Several times, he used words to make you Pull away to hug me!

"I became - if he hadn't impressed me with his childish courtship, I should have woken up a long time ago - a plaything, a pastime that he comes and goes when he asks for it. When he gradually feels disgusted, I I'm tired of it too. I can't work hard on my old ways to strengthen my position when his love fire is gone, just as I wouldn't marry him when he's forced to marry me. We're silent You have probably seen this before, but you don't feel sorry for it? Since then, I have been only a discarded instrument among you, with eyes, ears, feelings, and no memory. You Still moaning? Moaning because you made him like this. Your love for him is not worth moaning. I told you that my love for him is a thousand times deeper than yours at any time!"

Her eyes were shining with anger, facing the blank eyes and rigid face.

"Miss Dartle," said I, "if you are too cruel to pity the grieving mother—"

"Who will have mercy on me?" She asked back, "This is the seed she planted herself, let her groan for her own reaping!"

"If it's his fault—" I said.

"Fault!" she retorted. "Who can slander him? His soul is a million times higher than the souls of those friends he has made regardless of rank!"

"No one admires him more than I do, no one misses him more than I do," I answered, "I mean you don't pity his mother, and if his fault--makes you suffer--"

"That's false," she cried, "I love him!"

"—if his fault," I went on, "doesn't make you forget at this moment, look at the poor old man, and help her as if you were a stranger to her!"

During this period Mrs Steerforth's appearance had not changed, nor seemed likely to change.Her body was stiff, her eyes stared blankly ahead, she often moaned low and hoarse, and she was not angry at all.Miss Dartle knelt before her and began to undress her.

"Go to hell!" She looked back at me, "It's all you, it's bad luck if you come here, go to hell, you!"

When I was out of the house, I hurried back and rang the bell, so that the servants could come as soon as possible.

When it was dark, I came back.The servants told me she remained unchanged.Miss Dartle was always by her side, but she just groaned softly now and then.

I went all over the ominous house, pulling every window shut.I was the last to pull the window of his bedroom.

(End of this chapter)