David Copperfield

Chapter 47
Chapter 19 The Bystander (2)
"By the way! Some letters from Mr. Jack Melton!" said the doctor.

"real!"

"Poor Jack!" said Mrs. Mark, shaking her head. "The climate is unbearable--they tell me he's living on a heap of sand under a fireglass! Although he looks Physically strong, but not so. My dear doctor, it was his spirit, not his body, that prompted him to take the risk. Anne, my dear, I believe you have not forgotten that your cousin never None of them are strong—not what can be called strong, you know,” Mrs. Ma Kan said firmly, looking at everyone, “—ever since my daughter and him were children, when they were fighting all the time, he was Never strong."

Annie listened without answering.

"From what you say, ma'am, was Melton ill at first?" asked Mr. Wickfield.

"No!" replied the "veteran". "My dear sir, say he will do anything."

"Besides health?" said Mr. Wakefield.

"Yes, except health!" said the Veteran. "He's had a bad case of sunstroke, forest sickness, malaria, you name it. And liver," said the Veteran. Desperately said, "As early as when he first went abroad, he was considered useless."

"Did he say it himself?" asked Mr. Wakefield.

"He said it himself? My dear sir," replied Mrs. Mark, shaking her head and her fan, "that you ask, that you don't understand my poor Jack Melton. Say it yourself? That's not what he does. You can't drag him with four wild horses."

"Mother!" cried Mrs. Strong.

"Anne," went on her mother, "this is the last time I beg you, don't interrupt me until you can prove me right. You know, too, that your cousin Melton will have to use an unknown number of wild horses— —Why do I have to say four? I don’t necessarily mean four, eight, sixteen, or thirty-two—if you pull him, he won’t say a word to disrupt the doctor’s plan.”

"Wakefield's arrangement," the doctor said regretfully, touching his face, "I just want to say that the two of us made his future together. I said it myself, it can be done abroad or at home."

"I also said," added Mr. Wakefield solemnly, "abroad. I was the chief planner of sending him abroad, and I am responsible for that."

"Oh, duty?" said the "Old Soldier," "everything is well planned. My dear Mr. Wakefield, it's all done in kindness, we know it. But if our dear boy can't live there, He will die. And even if he dies there, he will not say a word to overthrow the doctor's arrangement, I know that," said the old soldier, fanning his fan with a sad expression of a known destiny, "I know His. He'd rather die there than mess up the doctor's plans."

"Well, ma'am," said the doctor cheerfully, "I don't have to stick to my arrangements. I can break them of my own accord, or substitute other arrangements. If Mr. Jack Melton's health If I return home, I will definitely not let him go again, and I will try to find him a more suitable and more prosperous position in the country."

Mrs. Ma Kan was so moved by his thoughtful words that she could only murmur that these words were just like his personality.Then, she kissed her fan bone several times in a row, and then came over and patted the doctor's hand lightly.After this, she gently scolded her daughter Anne, saying that the doctor had done her childhood playmates favors for her reasons, and she was ungrateful.Then she told us about some of the other needy folks in her line, whom she had high hopes for.

While she was chattering, her daughter said nothing and never looked up.Mr. Wickfield, on the other hand, stared intently at his daughter as she sat beside her.It never seemed to occur to him that anyone was looking at him, thinking about something about her.Then he asked what Mr. Jack Melton had written about himself and to whom he had written.

"Come, here," said Mrs. Malkan, taking a letter from the mantel above the Doctor's head, "the poor man said to the Doctor himself—what was it? Oh!—'Excuse me, I want What I tell you is that I have to go home and rest for a while because of my physical damage.' That's clear, poor man! But the letter to Anne is more clear. Anne, show me that letter again .”

"Come on, Mom," she begged in a low voice.

"My dear, you are absolutely the stupidest person in the world on certain matters," her mother went on, "and the most indifferent to the rights of your own family. If I hadn't asked to see that A letter, which we may not have known existed. My child, is this a sign of confidence in the doctor? You astonish me, and I thought you would be more sensible."

The letter was brought out with great reluctance, and when I handed it to the old woman, I saw Anne's hands shaking helplessly as she handed it to me.

"Well, let's see," said Mrs. Mark, putting on her spectacles, "where is that passage. 'Old fond memories, my dearest Annie'—wait—not this one." The Good old strongman'—who is this? Why, Anne, what a mess your cousin Melton is, and what a fool I am! Naturally it meant 'Doctor'. Ah! Kind indeed !” At this point, she stopped.Kissed her fanbones again, and shook the fan to the Doctor who looked at us with soft contentment, "Ah, I've found it. 'Don't be surprised, Anne'—since we already knew he never They are not strong, so they will not be surprised. Where did I say?—'I have suffered a lot in this strange country, so I decided to leave at all costs; take sick leave if I can, and if I don't If it succeeds, I'll quit. What I've been through here, and what I'm going through, I can't bear it any longer.' If it wasn't for the encouragement of the kindest man in the world," said Mrs. Markan, as before. Beckoning to the doctor, he folded up the letter and said, "I feel sick even thinking about it."

The old woman stared at Mr. Wickfield, as if expecting him to say something about the matter, but he said nothing, and sat looking solemnly at the floor in silence.When we put this question aside and talked about other topics, he still didn't say a word; he only occasionally frowned at the doctor or his wife, and then lowered his head again.

The doctor loves music very much. Agnes's singing voice is very melodious and moving, and so is Mrs. Strong. In addition to singing a few songs together, they also performed in chorus. This small concert was quite satisfactory. But I found two things: first, although Anne soon returned to normal, there seemed to be an invisible barrier between her and Wakefield; second, Mr. Wakefield seemed to be He didn't want her to get close to Agnes, and always looked at them with an uneasy expression.I cannot deny that the events of the night of Mr. Melton's departure came back to me in a very different sense, and I was somewhat troubled.The innocent beauty I was familiar with on her face was no longer as innocent as it used to be; I no longer believed in her natural charm and graceful posture; I looked at Agnes beside her, and felt that Agnes Stan was so kind and loyal that I thought their friendship was absolutely unworthy.

The friendship, however, made Agnes happy, and so did the other, making the night slip by like an hour.I still remember the parting that night.When we were leaving, when Agnes was about to kiss her goodbye, Mr. Wakefield seemed to insert himself between the two of them unintentionally, and quickly pulled Agnes away.That night, as if it were a continuation of the night Mr. Melton went to India, I stood at the door again and saw the expression on Mrs. Strong's face when she faced Dr. Strong that night.

It's hard for me to say what kind of imprint this expression has on me; I can't say how bad it is to want to separate her from this expression and leave only the innocent beauty on her face when I think of her in the future. easy.This expression still haunted me after I got home, making me feel as if a dark cloud hung over the roof of the Doctor's house when I left.I still had boundless faith in the gray-haired scholar, but now I was aroused by the sight of his betrayal by those in whom he trusted, with boundless sympathy for him, and indignation for those who had wronged him.A shadow of incomparable pain fell, like a blot, on the quiet campus where I had played and worked, and cast a cruel taint on the place.When I think of the plain agave, which has been unknown for a hundred years, the neat lawn, the stone urns, the promenades, and the merry ringing of the church bells, I no longer have any interest.It seems that the quiet temple of youth has been looted, and the original atmosphere of peace and glory has long since disappeared.

But when the morning came, I had to say goodbye to the old house that was full of Agnes's influence, and I had no other thoughts at the moment.No doubt I'll be back there again soon, sleeping in that old bedroom.But time has passed forever, and it is difficult for me to have the same state of mind as before.I packed up my books and clothes and planned to send them to Dou Buddha.I was sad at the time, but I didn't want to show it, because Julia Heep was packing my bags with overzealous enthusiasm, and I thought he would be delighted to see me sad.

I don't know how to distinguish between Agnes and Mr. Wakefield.The old adage that a man never sheds his tears has long been put behind him.After parting, I boarded the stagecoach headed for London first. After thinking about it, I began to feel pity for my old enemy—the butcher. I wanted to nod kindly to him and give him five shillings.But that guy didn't show any sign of repentance when he stood in the butcher's shop, and his face didn't look any better after I knocked out a front tooth.Therefore, I decided not to greet him.

I remember that when I was on the road, the only thing I wanted to do was to appear old-fashioned in front of the coachman, and I tried to speak in a very rough voice.I wasn't comfortable with the latter, but I did it anyway to give him an impression of maturity.

"Are you going to sit till the end, sir?" the coachman asked me.

"Indeed, William," I put on a modest air (I knew him), "I'm going to London. From London to Suffolk."

"Bow hunting, sir?" said the coachman.

Though he knew as well as I did that birding at Suffolk was tantamount to whale hunting at that season, I took his compliment anyway.

"Not yet decided," I pretended to be indecisive, "whether I'm going to go down there and make a round or two."

"I heard that birds now hide when they see people," William said.

"I've heard a little too." I said.

"Is Suffolk your homeland, sir?"

"Yes," I said solemnly, "it's my hometown."

"I heard that Suffolk's fruit pudding is delicious," said William.

I have no idea about Suffolk's fruit pudding.However, I think that maintaining the famous products of my hometown shows that I am familiar with my hometown, so I nodded and said: "You are right!"

"And the pottie," said William, "that's a fine animal! A good Suffolk pottie is worth gold. Have you ever bred one of those yourself? "

"It should be said that I have never raised it," I said, "that is not really raised."

"This gentleman sitting behind me, I'll bet you've bred lots of Suffolk ponzis."

(End of this chapter)