第179章
- MARTIN CHUZZLEWIT
- Charles Dickens
- 754字
- 2016-03-02 16:38:15
It was true: she did not. The death that had gone before the bridal seemed to have left its shade upon the house. The air was heavy and oppressive; the rooms were dark; a deep gloom filled up every chink and corner. Upon the hearthstone, like a creature of ill omen, sat the aged clerk, with his eyes fixed on some withered branches in the stove. He rose and looked at her.
`So there you are, Mr. Chuff,' said Jonas carelessly, as he dusted his boots: `still in the land of the living, eh?'
`Still in the land of the living, sir,' retorted Mrs. Gamp. `And Mr. Chuffey may thank you for it, as many and many a time I've told him.'
Mr. Jonas was not in the best of humours, for he merely said, as he looked round, `We don't want you any more, you know, Mrs. Gamp.'
`I'm a-going immediate, sir,' returned the nurse; `unless there's nothink I can do for you, ma'am. Ain't there,' said Mrs. Gamp, with a look of great sweetness, and rummaging all the time in her pocket; `ain't there nothink I can do for you, my little bird?'
`No,' said Merry, almost crying. `You had better go away, please!'
With a leer of mingled sweetness and slyness; with one eye on the future, one on the bride, and an arch expression in her face, partly spiritual, partly spirituous, and wholly professional and peculiar to her art; Mrs.
Gamp rummaged in her pocket again, and took from it a printed card, whereon was an inscription copied from her sign-board.
`Would you be so good, my darling dovey of a dear young married lady,'
Mrs. Gamp observed, in a low voice, `as put that some-whereas where you can keep it in your mind? I'm well beknown to many ladies, and it's my card. Gamp is my name, and Gamp my nater. Livin' quite handy, I will make so bold as call in now and then, and make inquiry how your health and spirits is, my precious chick!'
And with innumerable leers, winks, coughs, nods, smiles, and curtseys, all leading to the establishment of a mysterious and confidential understanding between herself and the bride, Mrs. Gamp, invoking a blessing upon the house, leered, winked, coughed, nodded, smiled, and curtseyed herself out of the room.
`But I will say, and I would if I was led a Martha to the Stakes for it,' Mrs. Gamp remarked below stairs, in a whisper, `that she don't look much like a merry one at this present moment of time.'
`Ah! wait till you hear her laugh!' said Bailey.
`Hem!' cried Mrs. Gamp, in a kind of groan. `I will, child.'
They said no more in the house, for Mrs. Gamp put on her bonnet, Mr. Sweedlepipe took up her box; and Mr. Bailey accompanied them towards Kingsgate Street; recounting to Mrs. Gamp as they went along, the origin and progress of his acquaintance with Mrs. Chuzzlewit and her sister. It was a pleasant instance of this youth's precocity, that he fancied Mrs. Gamp had conceived a tenderness for him, and was much tickled by her misplaced attachment.
As the door closed heavily behind them, Mrs. Jonas sat down in a chair, and felt a strange chill creep upon her, whilst she looked about the room.
It was pretty much as she had known it, but appeared more dreary. She had thought to see it brightened to receive her.
`It ain't good enough for you, I suppose?' said Jonas, watching her looks.
`Why, it is dull,' said Merry, trying to be more herself.
`It'll be duller before you're done with it,' retorted Jonas, `if you give me any of your airs. You're a nice article, to turn sulky on first coming home! Ecod, you used to have life enough, when you could plague me with it. The gal's down-stairs. Ring the bell for supper, while I take my boots off!'
She roused herself from looking after him as he left the room, to do what he had desired: when the old man Chuffey laid his hand softly on her arm.
`You are not married?' he said eagerly. `Not married?'
`Yes. A month ago. Good Heaven, what is the matter?'
He answered nothing was the matter; and turned from her. But in her fear and wonder, turning also, she saw him raise his trembling hands above his head, and heard him say:
`Oh! woe, woe, woe, upon this wicked house!'
It was her welcome,--H OME.