“怎么，艾丽！你吻它们吗？”老太婆吃吃地笑着。“这真像我！我常常这么做。它们对我们多好呀！”她把自己那个失去光泽的半便士也紧握着举到喉咙上松垂的皮上，“它们能给我们办多少好事呀，可惜它们不能成堆地来到我们跟前！”
“妈妈，我现在吻它们，”女儿说道，“或者我刚才吻它们——我不记得我过去曾经这样做过——，这是为了感谢给我钱的人。”
“为了感谢给钱的人，是吗，宝贝？”老太婆回答道，当她拿到钱的时候，她那昏花的眼睛发出了闪闪的亮光，“不错！如果给钱的人不吝啬，舍得把钱拿出来，我也会为了感谢给钱的人吻它们的。可是我得出去把它们花掉，宝贝。我马上就回来。”
“你似乎是说，你知道了好多事情，妈妈，”女儿目送她到门口，说道，“自从我们分别以后你已变得很聪明了。”
“我知道！”老太婆退回一、两步，哇哇地大声说道，“我比你想的知道得多。我比他想的知道得多，宝贝，我不久就会告诉你的。我知道他的一切。”
女儿表示怀疑地微笑了一下。
“我知道他的哥哥，艾丽斯，”老太婆伸出脖子，非常可怕地幸灾乐祸地斜眼看着说道，“他本可能住在你住过的地方，——但因为偷钱——他现在跟他姐姐住在伦敦城外北边公路附近。”
“住在哪里？”
“伦敦城外北边公路附近，宝贝。如果你愿意，你可以去看看他们的房屋。这座房屋没有什么可以夸耀的，虽然他自己的另一座倒是十分阔气。不，不，不”老太婆摇摇头，大笑着喊道，因为她的女儿已经从椅子上跳起来了，“现在不去看；那里太远了。房屋是在一块里程碑附近，那块里程碑旁边有一堆石子；——如果天气晴朗，你又有兴趣的话，那么就明天去吧，宝贝。可是我现在得去把钱花掉——”
“站住！”女儿重新燃烧着怒火，向她冲过去，说道，“那位姐姐是不是一位脸孔漂亮的女妖精，头发是黑色的？”
老太婆惊奇与恐惧地点点头。
“我在她脸上看到了他的一些特征，两人长得有些相像！
那是一座孤零零的红房子，门前有一条绿色的小走廊。”
老太婆又点点头。
“今天我在那里坐过！把钱还给我。”
“艾丽斯！宝贝！”
“把钱还给我，要不我会打伤你的。”
她一边说，一边从老太婆手里把钱硬抢过来；并且丝毫不顾她的埋怨和哀求，就重新披上脱下的斗篷，急速地向门外跑出去。
母亲一拐一拐地尽量跟随着她，同时劝说着她；可是这些劝说对她丝毫不起作用，就像对包围着她们的风雨和黑暗不起作用一样。女儿固执地、狠狠地打定了主意，对于其他一切全都满不在乎；她不顾气候和距离，仿佛她已忘记了她经过了长途跋涉，也忘记了她的疲劳，一直向着那座她曾得到救助的房屋走去；走了几刻钟之后，老太婆筋疲力尽，气喘吁吁，大胆地抓住女儿的裙子；可是她不敢再做别的了；她们穿过雨水和黑暗，默默无言地向前继续走去。如果说母亲不时吐出一两声怨言的话，那么她总是在刚要吐出的时候就立刻把它压下去，唯恐女儿会从她身边跑开，把她丢在后面；
女儿则一直一句话也不说。
当她们把城市的街道抛在身后，进入房屋所在的那个既不是城市又不是乡村的地段、四周是更加深沉的黑暗的时候，已经过了半夜十二点钟了。城市座落在远方，阴惨、昏暗；寒风在开旷的空间怒号；四周的一切是黑暗、荒芜、凄凉。
“这地方对我倒是很合适的！”女儿停下脚步，回头看看，说道，“今天当我初到这里的时候，我就这样想过。”
“艾丽斯，我的宝贝，”母亲轻轻地拉了拉她的裙子，喊道，“艾丽斯！”
“现在还想说什么，妈妈？”
“别把钱还回去，我亲爱的，请别还回去。我们还不起，我们要吃晚饭，宝贝。不管是谁给的，钱总是钱。你想对她说什么就说什么，但钱得留着。”
“看那边！”这就是女儿的回答。“那就是我所说的房屋。
是不是？”
老太婆肯定地点点头；她们再走几步，就到了门口。艾丽斯曾经坐着烘衣服的那间房屋中有着炉火和蜡烛的亮光；
她敲了敲门，约翰•卡克就从那间房间中走出来。
在这样的时刻看到这样的来访者，他感到惊讶。他问艾丽斯需要什么。
“我需要你的姐姐，”她说道，“就是今天给我钱的那个女人。”
哈里特听到她提高了嗓门的，就走出来了。
“啊！”艾丽斯喊道，“你在这里！你记得我吗？”
“记得，”她感到奇怪地回答道。
先前曾经恭顺地对着她的那张脸孔，现在却以这样不可抑制的仇恨和蔑视的神情看着她；先前曾经温柔地摸过她的胳膊的那只手，现在却这样显露出不怀好意地紧握着，仿佛它真想把她勒死似的；哈里特看到这种情景，就紧挨着她的弟弟，寻求保护。
“我先前怎么能跟你讲话，没有把你认出来呢！我先前怎么能接近你，没有根据我自己血液的震颤，感觉到你血管里流的是什么样的血呢！”艾丽斯摆出一副威胁的姿态，说道。
“您是什么意思？我做了什么啦？”
“你做了什么啦？”另一位回答道，“你曾让我坐在你的炉火旁边；你曾给我饭吃，给我钱；你曾向我表示怜悯！你！对你的姓我要吐唾沫！”
老太婆怀着怨恨（这使她那丑陋的脸孔更加可怕了），向姐弟俩挥动着满是皱纹的手，表示完全同意她女儿说的话，可是她却又拉拉女儿的裙子，求她把钱留着。
“如果我有一颗眼泪掉在你的手上，那么就让它使你的手枯萎吧！如果我曾对你讲过一句温柔的话，那么就让它把你的耳朵震聋吧！如果我曾用嘴唇吻过你的话，那么就让它毒害你吧！让我咀咒这座曾经给我庇护的房屋！让悲伤和耻辱落到你的头上！让你所有的亲人全都毁灭吧！”
她一边说，一边把钱扔在地上，用脚去踢它们。
“我把它们踏进尘土！即使它们给我铺设了通向天堂的道路，我也不去捡它们！我真但愿我这双今天走到这里来的流血的脚在去你家之前烂掉就好了！”
哈里特脸色苍白，身子发抖；她拦住她弟弟，听凭艾丽斯说下去，不去打断她。
“真不错，在我回来的第一个小时，我就被你或姓你这个姓的别的什么人怜悯和宽恕了！真不错，你扮演了慈善夫人的角色来对待我！我临终的时候将感谢你；我将为你，为你们整个家族祈祷，你可以相信这一点！”
她狠狠地挥了挥手，仿佛要把仇恨洒到地上，让站在她前面的这两个人毁灭似的，同时又向黑暗的天空仰望了一次，然后大踏步地走进暴风雨的深夜。
母亲曾经一次又一次徒劳无益地拉着女儿的裙子，并用无比贪婪的眼光注视着落在门口的钱币，仿佛她全身的注意力都集中在上面似的；她真想留下来在附近游荡，直到房屋里的灯火熄灭之后，再到污泥中去摸索，把那几个钱重新弄到手里。可是女儿把她拉开了，她们踏上了归途；老太婆一路上不断为她们的损失哀哭和悲叹着，就她胆量所敢的程度，痛心地抱怨她漂亮的女儿的不孝顺的行为——在她们母女团聚的第一夜就夺走了她一顿晚餐。
如果不算那点粗劣的剩饭的话，她可以说没吃晚饭就上床睡觉了；至于这点剩饭，她在她不孝顺的女儿睡熟之后很久还坐在那里，对着即将熄灭的炉火，闭着嘴有力地咀嚼着。
这位可怜的母亲和这位可怜的女儿，是不是只不过是有时在上层社会流行的某些社会恶习在下层社会的一个缩影呢？在这个圆圆的世界中存在许多圈子，一圈套着一圈；我们需不需要在这个世界中作一次令人疲劳的旅行，从最高层一直旅行到最低层，最后得出这个结论：最高层与最低层是紧紧挨近的，最高层的开始的一端与最低层结尾的一端是相互聚合的，我们旅行的终点只不过是我们旅行的出发点？尽管材料与质地有很大的不同，这种式样的织品在上流社会中不是也完全可以找到吗？
伊迪丝•董贝，请回答吧！还有克利奥佩特拉，您这位母亲当中最好的母亲，让我们请您来作证吧！
Chapter 35
The Happy Pair
The dark blot on the street is gone. Mr Dombey's mansion, if it be a gap among the other houses any longer, is only so because it is not to be vied with in its brightness, and haughtily casts them off. The saying is, that home is home, be it never so homely. If it hold good in the opposite contingency, and home is home be it never so stately, what an altar to the Household Gods is raised up here!
Lights are sparkling in the windows this evening, and the ruddy glow of fires is warm and bright upon the hangings and soft carpets, and the dinner waits to be served, and the dinner-table is handsomely set forth, though only for four persons, and the side board is cumbrous with plate. It is the first time that the house has been arranged for occupation since its late changes, and the happy pair are looked for every minute.
Only second to the wedding morning, in the interest and expectation it engenders among the household, is this evening of the coming home. Mrs Perch is in the kitchen taking tea; and has made the tour of the establishment, and priced the silks and damasks by the yard, and exhausted every interjection in the dictionary and out of it expressive of admiration and wonder. The upholsterer's foreman, who has left his hat, with a pocket-handkerchief in it, both smelling strongly of varnish, under a chair in the hall, lurks about the house, gazing upwards at the cornices, and downward at the carpets, and occasionally, in a silent transport of enjoyment, taking a rule out of his pocket, and skirmishingly measuring expensive objects, with unutterable feelings. Cook is in high spirits, and says give her a place where there's plenty of company (as she'll bet you sixpence there will be now), for she is of a lively disposition, and she always was from a child, and she don't mind who knows it; which sentiment elicits from the breast of Mrs Perch a responsive murmur of support and approbation. All the housemaid hopes is, happiness for 'em - but marriage is a lottery, and the more she thinks about it, the more she feels the independence and the safety of a single life. Mr Towlinson is saturnine and grim' and says that's his opinion too, and give him War besides, and down with the French - for this young man has a general impression that every foreigner is a Frenchman, and must be by the laws of nature.
At each new sound of wheels, they all stop> whatever they are saying, and listen; and more than once there is a general starting up and a cry of 'Here they are!' But here they are not yet; and Cook begins to mourn over the dinner, which has been put back twice, and the upholsterer's foreman still goes lurking about the rooms, undisturbed in his blissful reverie!
Florence is ready to receive her father and her new Mama Whether the emotions that are throbbing in her breast originate In pleasure or in pain, she hardly knows. But the fluttering heart sends added colour to her cheeks, and brightness to her eyes; and they say downstairs, drawing their heads together - for they always speak softly when they speak of her - how beautiful Miss Florence looks to-night, and what a sweet young lady she has grown, poor dear! A pause succeeds; and then Cook, feeling, as president, that her sentiments are waited for, wonders whether - and there stops. The housemaid wonders too, and so does Mrs Perch, who has the happy social faculty of always wondering when other people wonder, without being at all particular what she wonders at. Mr Towlinson, who now descries an opportunity of bringing down the spirits of the ladies to his own level, says wait and see; he wishes some people were well out of this. Cook leads a sigh then, and a murmur of 'Ah, it's a strange world, it is indeed!' and when it has gone round the table, adds persuasively, 'but Miss Florence can't well be the worse for any change, Tom.' Mr Towlinson's rejoinder, pregnant with frightful meaning, is 'Oh, can't she though!' and sensible that a mere man can scarcely be more prophetic, or improve upon that, he holds his peace.
Mrs Skewton, prepared to greet her darling daughter and dear son-in-law with open arms, is appropriately attired for that purpose in a very youthful costume, with short sleeves. At present, however, her ripe charms are blooming in the shade of her own apartments, whence she had not emerged since she took possession of them a few hours ago, and where she is fast growing fretful, on account of the postponement of dinner. The maid who ought to be a skeleton, but is in truth a buxom damsel, is, on the other hand, In a most amiable state: considering her quarterly stipend much safer than heretofore, and foreseeing a great improvement in her board and lodging.
Where are the happy pair, for whom this brave home is waiting? Do steam, tide, wind, and horses, all abate their speed, to linger on such happiness? Does the swarm of loves and graces hovering about them retard their progress by its numbers? Are there so many flowers in their happy path, that they can scarcely move along, without entanglement in thornless roses, and sweetest briar?
They are here at last! The noise of wheels is heard, grows louder, and a carriage drives up to the door! A thundering knock from the obnoxious foreigner anticipates the rush of Mr Towlinson and party to open it; and Mr Dombey and his bride alight, and walk in arm in arm.
'My sweetest Edith!' cries an agitated voice upon the stairs. 'My dearest Dombey!' and the short sleeves wreath themselves about the happy couple in turn, and embrace them.
Florence had come down to the hall too, but did not advance: reserving her timid welcome until these nearer and dearer transports should subside. But the eyes of Edith sought her out, upon the threshold; and dismissing her sensitive parent with a slight kiss on the cheek, she hurried on to Florence and embraced her.
'How do you do, Florence?' said Mr Dombey, putting out his hand.
As Florence, trembling, raised it to her lips, she met his glance. The look was cold and distant enough, but it stirred her heart to think that she observed in it something more of interest than he had ever shown before. It even expressed a kind of faint surprise, and not a disagreeable surprise, at sight of her. She dared not raise her eyes to his any more; but she felt that he looked at her once again, and not less favourably. Oh what a thrill of joy shot through her, awakened by even this intangible and baseless confirmation of her hope that she would learn to win him, through her new and beautiful Mama!
'You will not be long dressing, Mrs Dombey, I presume?' said Mr Dombey.
'I shall be ready immediately.'
'Let them send up dinner in a quarter of an hour.'
With that Mr Dombey stalked away to his own dressing-room, and Mrs Dombey went upstairs to hers. Mrs Skewton and Florence repaired to the drawing-room, where that excellent mother considered it incumbent on her to shed a few irrepressible tears, supposed to be forced from her by her daughter's felicity; and which she was still drying, very gingerly, with a laced corner of her pocket-handkerchief, when her son-in-law appeared.
'And how, my dearest Dombey, did you find that delightfullest of cities, Paris?' she asked, subduing her emotion.
'It was cold,' returned Mr Dombey.
'Gay as ever,' said Mrs Skewton, 'of course.
'Not particularly. I thought it dull,' said Mr Dombey.
'Fie, my dearest Dombey!' archly; 'dull!'
'It made that impression upon me, Madam,' said Mr Dombey, with grave politeness. 'I believe Mrs Dombey found it dull too. She mentioned once or twice that she thought it so.'
'Why, you naughty girl!' cried Mrs Skewton, rallying her dear child, who now entered, 'what dreadfully heretical things have you been saying about Paris?'
Edith raised her eyebrows with an air of weariness; and passing the folding-doors which were thrown open to display the suite of rooms in their new and handsome garniture, and barely glancing at them as she passed, sat down by Florence.
'My dear Dombey,' said Mrs Skewton, 'how charmingly these people have carried out every idea that we hinted. They have made a perfect palace of the house, positively.'
'It is handsome,' said Mr Dombey, looking round. 'I directed that no expense should be spared; and all that money could do, has been done, I believe.'
'And what can it not do, dear Dombey?' observed Cleopatra.
'It is powerful, Madam,' said Mr Dombey.
He looked in his solemn way towards his wife, but not a word said she.
'I hope, Mrs Dombey,' addressing her after a moment's silence, with especial distinctness; 'that these alterations meet with your approval?'
'They are as handsome as they can be,' she returned, with haughty carelessness. 'They should be so, of' course. And I suppose they are.'
An expression of scorn was habitual to the proud face, and seemed inseparable from it; but the contempt with which it received any appeal to admiration, respect, or consideration on the ground of his riches, no matter how slight or ordinary in itself, was a new and different expression, unequalled in intensity by any other of which it was capable. Whether Mr Dombey, wrapped in his own greatness, was at all aware of this, or no, there had not been wanting opportunities already for his complete enlightenment; and at that moment it might have been effected by the one glance of the dark eye that lighted on him, after it had rapidly and scornfully surveyed the theme of his self-glorification. He might have read in that one glance that nothing that his wealth could do, though it were increased ten thousand fold, could win him for its own sake, one look of softened recognition from the defiant woman, linked to him, but arrayed with her whole soul against him. He might have read in that one glance that even for its sordid and mercenary influence upon herself, she spurned it, while she claimed its utmost power as her right, her bargain - as the base and worthless recompense for which she had become his wife. He might have read in it that, ever baring her own head for the lightning of her own contempt and pride to strike, the most innocent allusion to the power of his riches degraded her anew, sunk her deeper in her own respect, and made the blight and waste within her more complete.
But dinner was announced, and Mr Dombey led down Cleopatra; Edith and his daughter following. Sweeping past the gold and silver demonstration on the sideboard as if it were heaped-up dirt, and deigning to bestow no look upon the elegancies around her, she took her place at his board for the first time, and sat, like a statue, at the feast.
Mr Dombey, being a good deal in the statue way himself, was well enough pleased to see his handsome wife immovable and proud and cold. Her deportment being always elegant and graceful, this as a general behaviour was agreeable and congenial to him. Presiding, therefore, with his accustomed dignity, and not at all reflecting on his wife by any warmth or hilarity of his own, he performed his share of the honours of the table with a cool satisfaction; and the installation dinner, though not regarded downstairs as a great success, or very promising beginning, passed oil, above, in a sufficiently polite, genteel, and frosty manner.
Soon after tea' Mrs Skewton, who affected to be quite overcome and worn Out by her emotions of happiness, arising in the contemplation of her dear child united to the man of her heart, but who, there is reason to suppose, found this family party somewhat dull, as she yawned for one hour continually behind her fan, retired to bed. Edith, also, silently withdrew and came back' no more. Thus, it happened that Florence, who had been upstairs to have some conversation with Diogenes, returning to the drawing-room with her little work-basket, found no one there but her father, who was walking to and fro, in dreary magnificence.
