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******
Bunting came back to the fire and looked down at his wife with mild excitement. Then, seeing her pale, apathetic face, her look of weary, mournful absorption, a wave of irritation swept through him. He felt he could have shaken her!
Ellen had hardly taken the trouble to listen when he, Bunting, had come back to bed that morning, and told her what the milkman had said. In fact, she had been quite nasty about it, intimating that she didn't like hearing about such horrid things.
It was a curious fact that though Mrs. Bunting enjoyed tales of pathos and sentiment, and would listen with frigid amusement to the details of a breach of promise action, she shrank from stories of immorality or of physical violence. In the old, happy days, when they could

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"If I had known you were going out, I should have got you just to go as far as my house with some orders for Nanny," said she, "which I have since, to my very great inconvenience, been obliged to go and carry myself. I could very ill spare the time, and you might have saved me the trouble, if you would only have been so good as to let us know you were going out. It would have made no difference to you, I suppose, whether you had walked in the shrubbery or gone to my house." ¡¡¡¡ "I recommended the shrubbery to Fanny as the driest place," said Sir Thomas. ¡¡¡¡ "Oh!" said Mrs. Norris, with a moment's check, "that was very kind of you,
Sir Thomas; but you do not know how dry the path is to my house. Fanny would have had quite as good a walk there, I assure you, with the advantage of being of some use, and obliging her aunt: it is all her fault. If she would but have let us know she

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The preparations meanwhile went on, and Lady Bertram continued to sit on her sofa without any inconvenience from them. She had some extra visits from the housekeeper, and her maid was rather hurried in making up a new dress for her: Sir Thomas gave orders, and Mrs. Norris ran about; but all this gave _her_ no trouble, and as she had foreseen, "there was, in fact, no trouble in the business." ¡¡¡¡ Edmund was at this time particularly full of cares: his mind being deeply occupied in the consideration of two important events now at hand, which were to fix his fate in life--ordination and matrimony--events of such a serious character as to make the ball,
which would be very quickly followed by one of them, appear of less moment in his eyes than in those of any other person in the house. On the 23rd he was going to a friend near Peterborough, in the same situation as himself, and they

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instinctively altered his tread, as being in expectation of a drawbridge; and when there was no drawbridge, and he saw the carriage waiting in the open street, he dropped his daughter's hand and clasped his head again. ¡¡¡¡No crowd was about the door; no people were discernible at any of the many windows; not even a chance passer-by was in the street. An unnatural silence and desertion reigned there. Only one soul was to be seen,
and that was Madame Defarge- who leaned against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing. ¡¡¡¡The prisoner had got into a coach, and his daughter had followed him, when Mr. Lorry's feet were arrested on the step by his asking, miserably, for his shoemaking tools and the unfinished shoes. Madame Defarge immediately called to her husband that she would get them, and went, knitting, out of the lamplight, through the courtyard. She quickly brought them down and handed them in;- and immediately afterwards leaned against the door-post, knitting, and saw nothing.

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'I am not blaming you, Dora. We have both a great deal to learn. I am only trying to show you, my dear, that you must - you really must' (I was resolved not to give this up) - 'accustom yourself to look after Mary Anne. Likewise to act a little for yourself, and me.' ¡¡¡¡'I wonder, I do, at your making such ungrateful speeches,' sobbed Dora. 'When you know that the other day, when you said you would like a little bit of fish, I went out myself, miles and miles, and ordered it, to surprise you.' ¡¡¡¡'And it was very kind of you, my own darling,' said I. 'I felt it so much that I wouldn't on any account have even mentioned that you bought a Salmon - which was too much for two. Or that it cost one pound six - which was more than we can afford.' ¡¡¡¡'You enjoyed it very much,' sobbed Dora. 'And you said I was a Mouse.' ¡
¡¡¡'And I'll say so again, my love,' I returned, 'a thousand times!' ¡¡¡¡But I had wounded Dora's soft little heart, and she was not to be comforted. She was so pathetic in her sobbing and bewailing, that I felt as if I had said I don't know what to hurt her. I was obliged to hurry away; I was kept out late; and I felt all night such pangs of remorse as made me miserable. I had the conscience of an assassin, and was haunted by a vague sense of enormous wickedness.

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my own Conveniences; and I had dropp'd a good Design, which I had once bent my Thoughts too much upon; and that was, to try if I could not make some of my Barley into Malt, and then try to brew my self some Beer: This was really a whimsical Thought, and I reprov'd my self often for the Simplicity of it; for I presently saw there would be the want of several Things necessary to the making my Beer, that it would be impossible for me to supply; as First, Casks to preserve it in, which was a Thing, that as I have observ'd already, I cou'd never compass; no, though I spent not many Days, but Weeks, nay, Months in attempting it, but to no purpose. In the next Place, I had no Hops to make it keep, no Yeast to make it work, no Copper or Kettle to make it boil; and yet all these Things, notwithstanding, I verily believe, had not these Things interven'd, I mean the Frights and Terrors I was in about the
But my Invention now run quite another Way; for Night and Day, I could think of nothing but how I might destroy some of these Monsters in their cruel bloody Entertainment, and if possible, save the Victim they should bring hither to destroy. It would take up a larger Volume than this whole Work is intended to be, to set down all the Contrivances I hatch'd, or rather brooded upon in my Thought, for the destroying these Creatures, or at least frighting them, so as to prevent their coming hither any more; but all was abortive, nothing could be possible to take effect, unless I was to be there to do it my self; and what could one Man do among them, when perhaps there might be twenty or thirty of them together, with their

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too much upon; and that was, to try if I could not make some of my Barley into Malt, and then try to brew my self some Beer: This was really a whimsical Thought, and I reprov'd my self often for the Simplicity of it; for I presently saw there would be the want of several Things necessary to the making my Beer, that it would be impossible for me to supply; as First, Casks to preserve it in, which was a Thing, that as I have observ'd already, I cou'd never compass; no, though I spent not many Days, but Weeks, nay, Months in attempting it, but to no purpose. In the next Place, I had no Hops to make it keep, no Yeast to make it work, no Copper or Kettle to make it boil; and yet all these Things, notwithstanding, I verily believe, had not these nothing but how I might destroy some of these Monsters in their cruel bloody Entertainment, and if possible, save the Victim they should bring hither to destroy. It would take up a larger Volume than this whole Work is intended to be, to set down all the Contrivances I hatch'd, or rather brooded upon in my Thought, for the destroying these Creatures, or at least frighting them, so as to prevent their coming hither any more; but all was abortive, nothing could be possible to take effect, unless I was to be there to do it my self; and what could one Man do among them, when perhaps there might be twenty or thirty of them together, with their

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had alas! no divine Knowledge; what I had received by the good Instruction of my Father was then worn out by an uninterrupted Series, for 8 Years, of Seafaring Wickedness, and a constant Conversation with nothing but such as were like my self, wicked and prophane to the last Degree: I do not remember that I had in all that Time one Thought that so much as tended either to looking upwards toward God, or inwards towards a Reflection upon my own Ways: But a certain Stupidity of Soul, without Desire of Good, or Conscience of Evil, had entirely overwhelm'd me, and I was all that the most hardened, unthinking, wicked Creature among our common Sailors, can be supposed to be, not having the least Sense, either of the Fear of
In the relating what is already past of my Story, this will be the more easily believ'd, when I shall add, that thro' all the Variety of Miseries that had to this Day befallen me, I never had so much as one Thought of it being the Hand of God, or that it was a just Punishment for my Sin; my rebellious Behaviour against my Father, or my present Sins which were great; or so much as a Punishment for the general Course of my wicked Life. When I was on the desperate Expedition on the desert Shores of Africa, I never had so as one Thought of what would become of me; or one to od to direct me whether I should go, or to keep me from the Danger which apparently surrounded me, as well from voracious Creatures as cruel Savages: But I

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but leaving them to hear of it as they might, without asking God's Blessing, or my Father's, without any Consideration of Circumstances or Consequences, and in an ill Hour, God knows. On the first of September 1651 I went on Board a Ship bound for London; never any young Adventurer's Misfortunes, I believe, began sooner, or continued longer than mine. The Ship was no sooner gotten out of the Humber, but the Wind began to blow, and the Winds' to rise in a most frightful manner; and as I had never been at Sea before, I was most inexpressibly sick in Body, and terrify'd in my
House, and abandoning my Duty; all the good Counsel of my Parents, my Father's Tears and my Mother's Entreaties came now fresh into my Mind, and my Conscience, which was not yet come to the Pitch of Hardness to which it has been since, reproach'd me with the Contempt of Advice, and the Breach of my Duty to God and my Father.
All this while the Storm encreas'd, and the Sea, which I had never been upon before, went very high, tho' nothing like what I have seen many times since; no, nor like what I saw a few Days after: But it was enough to affect me then, who was but a young Sailor, and had never known any thing of the matter. I expected every Wave

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, as if I were really going to touch him! You needn't bespeak contempt, Linton: anybody will have it spontaneously at your service. Get off! I shall return home: it is folly dragging you from the hearthstone, and pretending--what do we pretend? Let go my frock! If I pitied you for crying and looking so very frightened, you should spurn such pity. Ellen, tell him how disgraceful this conduct is. Rise, and don't degrade yourself into an abject reptile--don't!'
With streaming face and an expression of agony, Linton had thrown his nerveless frame along the ground: he seemed convulsed with exquisite terror.
`Oh!' he sobbed, `I cannot bear it! Catherine, Catherine, I'm a traitor, too, and I dare not tell you! But leave me, and I shall be killed! Dear Catherine, my life is in your hands: and you have said you loved me, and if you did, it wouldn't harm you. You'll not go, then? kind, sweet, good Catherine! And perhaps you will consent--and he'll let me die with you!'
My young lady, on witnessing his intense anguish, stooped to raise him. The old feeling of indulgent tenderness overcame her vexation, and she grew thoroughly
`Consent to what?' she asked. `To stay? Tell me the meaning of this strange talk, and I will. You contradict your own words, and distract me! Be calm and frank, and confess at once all that weighs on your heart. You wouldn't injure me, Linton, would you? You wouldn't let any enemy hurt me, if you could prevent it? I'll believe you are a coward for yourself, but not a cowardly betrayer of your best friend.'
`But my father threatened me,' gasped the boy, clasping his attenuated fingers, `and I dread him--I dread him! I dare not tell!'

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`No matter--I'm not accustomed to go to bed in the long hours. One or two is early enough for a person who lies till ten.'
`You shouldn't lie till ten. There's the very prime of the morning gone long before that time. A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o'clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.'
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`Nevertheless, Mrs Dean, resume your chair; because to morrow I intend lengthening the night till afternoon. I prognosticate for myself an obstinate cold, at least.'
`I hope not, sir. Well, you must allow me to leap over some three years; during that space Mrs Earnshaw---'
`No, no, I'll allow nothing of the sort! Are you acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and the cat licking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently that puss's neglect of one ear would put you seriously out of temper?'
`A terribly lazy mood, I should say.' oil painting artist

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provided only they be sincere- have their sublime moments, when they
subdue and rule. I felt veneration for St. John- veneration so
strong that its impetus thrust me at once to the point I had so long
shunned. I was tempted to cease struggling with him- to rush down
the torrent of his will into the gulf of his existence, and there lose
my own. I was almost as hard beset by him now as I had been once
before, in a different way, by another. I was a fool both times. To
have yielded then would have been an error of principle; to have
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yielded now would have been an error of judgment. So I think at this
hour, when I look back to the crisis through the quiet medium of time:
I was unconscious of folly at the instant.
I stood motionless under my hierophant's touch. My refusals were
forgotten- my fears overcome- my wrestlings paralysed. The Impossible-
i.e., my marriage with St. John- was fast becoming the Possible. All
was changing utterly with a sudden sweep. Religion called- Angels
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my dress, 'lest,' as she said, 'I should mucky it.'
'Ye've not been used to sarvant's wark, I see by your hands,' she
remarked. 'Happen ye've been a dressmaker?'
'No, you are wrong. And now, never mind what I have been: don't
trouble your head further about me; but tell me the name of the
house where we are.'
'Some calls it Marsh End, and some calls it Moor House.'
'And the gentleman who lives here is called Mr. St. John?'
'Nay; he doesn't live here: he is only staying a while. When he
is at home, he is in his own parish at Morton.'
'That village a few miles off?'
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'And what is he?'
'He is a parson.'
I remembered the answer of the old housekeeper at the parsonage,
when I had asked to see the clergyman. 'This, then, was his father's
residence?'
'Aye; old Mr. Rivers lived here, and his father, and grandfather,
and gurt (great) grandfather afore him.'
'The name, then, of that gentleman, is Mr. St. John Rivers?'
'Aye; St. John is like his kirstened name.'
'And his sisters are called Diana and Mary Rivers?'
'Yes.'
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'I was thinking, sir (you will excuse the idea; it was
involuntary), I was thinking of Hercules and Samson with their
charmers-'
'You were, you little elfish-'
'Hush, sir! You don't talk very wisely just now; any more than
those gentlemen acted very wisely. However, had they been married,
they would no doubt by their severity as husbands have made up for
their softness as suitors; and so will you, I fear. I wonder how you
will answer me a year hence, should I ask a favour it does not suit
your convenience or pleasure to grant.'
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'Ask me something now, Janet- the least thing: I desire to be
entreated-'
'Indeed I will sir; I have my petition all ready.'
'Speak! But if you look up and smile with that countenance, I shall
swear concession before I know to what, and that will make a fool of
me.'
'Not at all, sir; I ask only this: don't send for the jewels, and
don't crown me with roses: you might as well put a border of gold lace
round that plain pocket-handkerchief you have there.'
'I might as well "gild refined gold." I know it: your request is
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remarkably good.'
'And this beautiful and accomplished lady, she is not yet married.'
'It appears not: I fancy neither she nor her sister have very large
fortunes. Old Lord Ingram's estates were chiefly entailed, and the
eldest son came in for everything almost.'
'But I wonder no wealthy nobleman or gentleman has taken a fancy to
her: Mr. Rochester, for instance. He is rich, is he not?'
'Oh! yes. But you see there is a considerable difference in age:
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Mr. Rochester is nearly forty; she is but twenty-five.'
'What of that? More unequal matches are made every day.'
'True: yet I should scarcely fancy Mr. Rochester would entertain an
idea of the sort. But you eat nothing: you have scarcely tasted
since you began tea.'
'No: I am too thirsty to eat. Will you let me have another cup?'
I was about again to revert to the probability of a union between
Mr. Rochester and the beautiful Blanche; but Adele came in, and the
conversation was turned into another channel.
When once more alone, I reviewed the information I had got;
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crowned with a star; the lineaments below were seen as through the
suffusion of vapour; the eyes shone dark and wild; the hair streamed
shadowy, like a beamless cloud torn by storm or by electric travail.
On the neck lay a pale reflection like moonlight; the same faint
lustre touched the train of thin clouds from which rose and bowed this
vision of the Evening Star.
The third showed the pinnacle of an iceberg
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sky: a muster of northern lights reared their dim lances, close
serried, along the horizon. Throwing these into distance, rose, in the
foreground, a head,- a colossal head, inclined towards the iceberg,
and resting against it. Two thin hands, joined under the forehead, and
supporting it, drew up before the lower features a sable veil; a
brow quite bloodless, white as bone, and an eye hollow and fixed,
blank of meaning but for the glassiness of despair, alone were
visible. Above the temples, amidst wreathed turban folds of black
drapery, vague in its character and consistency as cloud, gleamed a oil painting artist

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hate you and despitefully use you.'
'Then I should love Mrs. Reed, which I cannot do; I should bless
her son John, which is impossible.'
In her turn, Helen Burns asked me to explain, and I proceeded
forthwith to pour out, in my own way, the tale of my sufferings and
resentments. Bitter and truculent when excited, I spoke as I felt,
without reserve or softening.
Helen heard me patiently to the end: I expected she would then make
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a remark, but she said nothing.
'Well,' I asked impatiently, 'is not Mrs. Reed a hard-hearted,
bad woman?'
'She has been unkind to you, no doubt; because you see, she
dislikes your cast of character, as Miss Scatcherd does mine; but
how minutely you remember all she has done and said to you! What a
singularly deep impression her injustice seems to have made on your
heart! No ill-usage so brands its record on my feelings. Would you not
be happier if you tried to forget her severity, together with the
passionate emotions it excited? Life appears to me too short to be
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　孙师傅看着文丽，说:你的意思佟子现在在闹情绪？我说他这小半年都不太对劲，这可太不像话了，哪有个领导干部胸襟啊！你等着看我怎么收拾他。
　　正说着，佟志骑着车疯赶过来，也没看见两个女人，疯一样骑向车间。孙师傅一眼看见，立刻叫道:佟子！
　　文丽想拦，但孙师傅已经叫出声了。佟志一回身，看见文丽和孙师傅，赶紧下车。文丽立刻对孙师傅说:他既然来了，你可别记他病假啦，回头扣奖金，他该抱怨我了。我走了。
　　佟志从文丽眼前经过，一眼看见文丽眼里有泪痕，再看孙师傅一脸虎视眈眈，佟志吃一惊，立刻跑到孙师傅面前，问:师傅，文丽找你干什么？
　　孙师傅说:给你请病假。
　　佟志说:老娘儿们瞎操心，我哪有病！
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　孙师傅说:怎么没病，我看你病得不轻！孙师傅说着，抬手要摸佟志的脑门儿，佟志赶紧躲。孙师傅说:是不是在闹情绪？甭瞒我啊，我说你这小半年情绪这么反常，我压根儿还没往那儿想，你媳妇这一提醒，我还真想明白了。佟子，你这可不对啊。这调动不调动是组织上决定，你拿工作和家人出气，就你这觉悟，我都没法说你，你年轻时候不这样啊！
　　佟志越听越生气，说:文丽跟你说什么了？老娘儿们一天到晚无事生非！
　　孙师傅说:你这什么态度，她有事儿找组织怎么不对了？oil painting artist

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　文母送佟母出了门，俩老太太表面客套寒暄，眼神却一个赛一个的精明。文母说:这赌不赌的传出去也怪难听的，反正是谁的闺女谁心疼啊！
　　佟母说:瞧你说的，我就这么一个媳妇，我不是舍了三个女儿来陪媳妇嘛。你放心，那保证书就算你丢了，我这儿也存着底呢，还有南方啊，我这孙女记性好着呢，一句话十年也忘不了。南方给姥姥背背保证书。
　　南方张口就背:奶奶用脑袋担保……
　　文母忙说:得得，这传出去还不得让街坊邻居笑话死！唉，南方，你爸爸怎么没来啊？
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作者：王宛平 出版社:作家出版社
　　南方说:爸爸他！我不敢说……
　　文母脸有不悦，说:妈妈身体这样，爸爸在家干吗呢？
　　南方的脸扭过去。文母的脸跟着转过去。只见院门开着，佟志冻得直跺脚一个劲搓手，见文母看见自己，便点头哈腰，笑容满面。
　　文母一时无话，掉转身，进了文丽的房间。南方拉着爸爸的手进来。文丽的房门打开，文秀搀着文丽出来了。
　　他们一起回家了。文母和文秀看着文丽一家走出了门，母女两人都是满脸忧虑……
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文丽说:不用不用。
　　庄嫂看了文丽一下说:得，我煮好了给你盛一碗。
　　文丽愣了片刻，手捂住了胃，她真的饿了。文丽蔫头蔫脑地进了门，一进门就翻东西，翻了半天，啥没找着。
　　佟志把孩子放床上问:找什么呢？
　　文丽说:一会儿庄嫂要送高粱米来，你说她老送东西，我不回送点什么，多不合适啊，可你说咱家除了书还有什么？
　　佟志感叹说:人家也不图你什么，街坊邻居的困难年头互相帮助，想那么多干什么？
　　文丽说:就你不想！
　　佟志说:以后馊了的东西，别吃了，你这么臭讲究的人，吃什么吃呀！
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　文丽说:不吃了多可惜啊！你说我都两个月没来月经了，不会真有什么吧？我们学校有个老师特会看相，说什么都特准，说我要真有了，肯定是个儿子。
　　佟志说:听我师傅说，我们厂未婚女青工因为营养不良，一多半儿都不来月经了，工会正想办法改善生活呢。
　　文丽愣着，难过地说:好容易高兴一会儿，你可真能扫兴！
　　佟志说:咱睡吧，白天我眯了一觉，我做梦吃红烧肉呢！
　　文丽说:明天回趟我妈家吧。
　　佟志点了点头。oil painting artist