the watches of the night

florence, long since awakened from her dream, mournfully observed the estrangement between her father and edith, and saw it widen more and more, and knew that there was greater bitterness between them every day. each day's added knowledge deepened the shade upon her love and hope, roused up the old sorrow that had slumbered for a little time, and made it even heavier to bear than it had been before.

it had been hard - how hard may none but florence ever know! - to have the natural affection of a true and earnest nature turned to agony; and slight, or stern repulse, substituted for the tenderest protection and the dearest care. it had been hard to feel in her deep heart what she had felt, and never know the happiness of one touch of response. but it was much more hard to be compelled to doubt either her father or edith, so affectionate and dear to her, and to think of her love for each of them, by turns, with fear, distrust, and wonder.

yet florence now began to do so; and the doing of it was a task imposed upon her by the very purity of her soul, as one she could not fly from. she saw her father cold and obdurate to edith, as to her; hard, inflexible, unyielding. could it be, she asked herself with starting tears, that her own dear mother had been made unhappy by such treatment, and had pined away and died? then she would think how proud and stately edith was to everyone but her, with what disdain she treated him, how distantly she kept apart from him, and what she had said on the night when they came home; and quickly it would come on florence, almost as a crime, that she loved one who was set in opposition to her father, and that her father knowing of it, must think of her in his solitary room as the unnatural child who added this wrong to the old fault, so much wept for, of never having won his fatherly affection from her birth. the next kind word from edith, the next kind glance, would shake these thoughts again, and make them seem like black ingratitude; for who but she had cheered the drooping heart of florence, so lonely and so hurt, and been its best of comforters! thus, with her gentle nature yearning to them both, feeling for the misery of both, and whispering doubts of her own duty to both, florence in her wider and expanded love, and by the side of edith, endured more than when she had hoarded up her undivided secret in the mournful house, and her beautiful mama had never dawned upon it.

one exquisite unhappiness that would have far outweighed this, florence was spared. she never had the least suspicion that edith by her tenderness for her widened the separation from her father, or gave him new cause of dislike. if florence had conceived the possibility of such an effect being wrought by such a cause, what grief she would have felt, what sacrifice she would have tried to make, poor loving girl, how fast and sure her quiet passage might have been beneath it to the presence of that higher father who does not reject his children's love, or spurn their tried and broken hearts, heaven knows! but it was otherwise, and that was well.

no word was ever spoken between florence and edith now, on these subjects. edith had said there ought to be between them, in that wise, a division and a silence like the grave itself: and florence felt she was right'

in this state of affairs her father was brought home, suffering and disabled; and gloomily retired to his own rooms, where he was tended by servants, not approached by edith, and had no friend or companion but mr carker, who withdrew near midnight.

'and nice company he is, miss floy,' said susan nipper. 'oh, he's a precious piece of goods! if ever he wants a character don't let him come to me whatever he does, that's all i tell him.'

'dear susan,' urged florence, 'don't!'

'oh, it's very well to say "don't" miss floy,' returned the nipper, much exasperated; 'but raly begging your pardon we're coming to such passes that it turns all the blood in a person's body into pins and needles, with their pints all ways. don't mistake me, miss floy, i don't mean nothing again your ma-in-law who has always treated me as a lady should though she is rather high i must say not that i have any right to object to that particular, but when we come to mrs pipchinses and having them put over us and keeping guard at your pa's door like crocodiles (only make us thankful that they lay no eggs!) we are a growing too outrageous!'

'papa thinks well of mrs pipchin, susan,' returned florence, 'and has a right to choose his housekeeper, you know. pray don't!'

'well miss floy,' returned the nipper, 'when you say don't, i never do i hope but mrs pipchin acts like early gooseberries upon me miss, and nothing less.'

susan was unusually emphatic and destitute of punctuation in her discourse on this night, which was the night of mr dombey's being brought home, because, having been sent downstairs by florence to inquire after him, she had been obliged to deliver her message to her mortal enemy mrs pipchin; who, without carrying it in to mr dombey, had taken upon herself to return what miss nipper called a huffish answer, on her own responsibility. this, susan nipper construed into presumption on the part of that exemplary sufferer by the peruvian mines, and a deed of disparagement upon her young lady, that was not to be forgiven; and so far her emphatic state was special. but she had been in a condition of greatly increased suspicion and distrust, ever since the marriage; for, like most persons of her quality of mind, who form a strong and sincere attachment to one in the different station which florence occupied, susan was very jealous, and her jealousy naturally attached to edith, who divided her old empire, and came between them. proud and glad as susan nipper truly was, that her young mistress should be advanced towards her proper place in the scene of her old neglect, and that she should have her father's handsome wife for her companion and protectress, she could not relinquish any part of her own dominion to the handsome wife, without a grudge and a vague feeling of ill-will, for which she did not fail to find a disinterested justification in her sharp perception of the pride and passion of the lady's character. from the background to which she had necessarily retired somewhat, since the marriage, miss nipper looked on, therefore, at domestic affairs in general, with a resolute conviction that no good would come of mrs dombey: always being very careful to publish on all possible occasions, that she had nothing to say against her.

'susan,' said florence, who was sitting thoughtfully at her table, 'it is very late. i shall want nothing more to-night.'

'ah, miss floy!' returned the nipper, 'i'm sure i often wish for them old times when i sat up with you hours later than this and fell asleep through being tired out when you was as broad awake as spectacles, but you've ma's-in-law to come and sit with you now miss floy and i'm thankful for it i'm sure. i've not a word to say against 'em.'

'i shall not forget who was my old companion when i had none, susan,' returned florence, gently, 'never!' and looking up, she put her arm round the neck of her humble friend, drew her face down to hers, and bidding her good-night, kissed it; which so mollified miss nipper, that she fell a sobbing.

'now my dear miss floy, said susan, 'let me go downstairs again and see how your pa is, i know you're wretched about him, do let me go downstairs again and knock at his door my own self.'

'no,' said florence, 'go to bed. we shall hear more in the morning. i will inquire myself in the morning. mama has been down, i daresay;' florence blushed, for she had no such hope; 'or is there now, perhaps. good-night!'

susan was too much softened to express her private opinion on the probability of mrs dombey's being in attendance on her husband, and silently withdrew. florence left alone, soon hid her head upon her hands as she had often done in other days, and did not restrain the tears from coursing down her face. the misery of this domestic discord and unhappiness; the withered hope she cherished now, if hope it could be called, of ever being taken to her father's heart; her doubts and fears between the two; the yearning of her innocent breast to both; the heavy disappointment and regret of such an end as this, to what had been a vision of bright hope and promise to her; all crowded on her mind and made her tears flow fast. her mother and her brother dead, her father unmoved towards her, edith opposed to him and casting him away, but loving her, and loved by her, it seemed as if her affection could never prosper, rest where it would. that weak thought was soon hushed, but the thoughts in which it had arisen were too true and strong to be dismissed with it; and they made the night desolate.

among such reflections there rose up, as there had risen up all day, the image of her father, wounded and in pain, alone in his own room, untended by those who should be nearest to him, and passing the tardy hours in lonely suffering. a frightened thought which made her start and clasp her hands - though it was not a new one in her mind - that he might die, and never see her or pronounce her name, thrilled her whole frame. in her agitation she thought, and trembled while she thought, of once more stealing downstairs, and venturing to his door.

she listened at her own. the house was quiet, and all the lights were out. it was a long, long time, she thought, since she used to make her nightly pilgrimages to his door! it was a long, long time, she tried to think, since she had entered his room at midnight, and he had led her back to the stair-foot!

with the same child's heart within her, as of old: even with the child's sweet timid eyes and clustering hair: florence, as strange to her father in her early maiden bloom, as in her nursery time, crept down the staircase listening as she went, and drew near to his room. no one was stirring in the house. the door was partly open to admit air; and all was so still within, that she could hear the burning of the fire, and count the ticking of the clock that stood upon the chimney-piece.

she looked in. in that room, the housekeeper wrapped in a blanket was fast asleep in an easy chair before the fire. the doors between it and the next were partly closed, and a screen was drawn before them; but there was a light there, and it shone upon the cornice of his bed. all was so very still that she could hear from his breathing that he was asleep. this gave her courage to pass round the screen, and look into his chamber.

it was as great a start to come upon his sleeping face as if she had not expected to see it. florence stood arrested on the spot, and if he had awakened then, must have remained there.

there was a cut upon his forehead, and they had been wetting his hair, which lay bedabbled and entangled on the pillow. one of his arms, resting outside the bed, was bandaged up, and he was very white. but it was not this, that after the first quick glance, and first assurance of his sleeping quietly, held florence rooted to the ground. it was something very different from this, and more than this, that made him look so solemn in her eye

she had never seen his face in all her life, but there had been upon it - or she fancied so - some disturbing consciousness of her. she had never seen his face in all her life, but hope had sunk within her, and her timid glance had dropped before its stern, unloving, and repelling harshness. as she looked upon it now, she saw it, for the first time, free from the cloud that had darkened her childhood. calm, tranquil night was reigning in its stead. he might have gone to sleep, for anything she saw there, blessing her.

awake, unkind father! awake, now, sullen man! the time is flitting by; the hour is coming with an angry tread. awake!

there was no change upon his face; and as she watched it, awfully, its motionless reponse recalled the faces that were gone. so they looked, so would he; so she, his weeping child, who should say when! so all the world of love and hatred and indifference around them! when that time should come, it would not be the heavier to him, for this that she was going to do; and it might fall something lighter upon her.

she stole close to the bed, and drawing in her breath, bent down, and softly kissed him on the face, and laid her own for one brief moment by its side, and put the arm, with which she dared not touch him, round about him on the pillow.

awake, doomed man, while she is near! the time is flitting by; the hour is coming with an angry tread; its foot is in the house. awake!

in her mind, she prayed to god to bless her father, and to soften him towards her, if it might be so; and if not, to forgive him if he was wrong, and pardon her the prayer which almost seemed impiety. and doing so, and looking back at him with blinded eyes, and stealing timidly away, passed out of his room, and crossed the other, and was gone.

he may sleep on now. he may sleep on while he may. but let him look for that slight figure when he wakes, and find it near him when the hour is come!

sad and grieving was the heart of florence, as she crept upstairs. the quiet house had grown more dismal since she came down. the sleep she had been looking on, in the dead of night, had the solemnity to her of death and life in one. the secrecy and silence of her own proceeding made the night secret, silent, and oppressive. she felt unwilling, almost unable, to go on to her own chamber; and turning into the drawing-rooms, where the clouded moon was shining through the blinds, looked out into the empty streets.

the wind was blowing drearily. the lamps looked pale, and shook as if they were cold. there was a distant glimmer of something that was not quite darkness, rather than of light, in the sky; and foreboding night was shivering and restless, as the dying are who make a troubled end. florence remembered how, as a watcher, by a sick-bed, she had noted this bleak time, and felt its influence, as if in some hidden natural antipathy to it; and now it was very, very gloomy.

her mama had not come to her room that night, which was one cause of her having sat late out of her bed. in her general uneasiness, no less than in her ardent longing to have somebody to speak to, and to break the spell of gloom and silence, florence directed her steps towards the chamber where she slept.

the door was not fastened within, and yielded smoothly to her hesitating hand. she was surprised to find a bright light burning; still more surprised, on looking in, to see that her mama, but partially undressed, was sitting near the ashes of the fire, which had crumbled and dropped away. her eyes were intently bent upon the air; and in their light, and in her face, and in her form, and in the grasp with which she held the elbows of her chair as if about to start up, florence saw such fierce emotion that it terrified her.

'mama!' she cried, 'what is the matter?'

edith started; looking at her with such a strange dread in her face, that florence was more frightened than before.

'mama!' said florence, hurriedly advancing. 'dear mama! what is the matter?'

'i have not been well,' said edith, shaking, and still looking at her in the same strange way. 'i have had had dreams, my love.'

'and not yet been to bed, mama?'

'no,' she returned. 'half-waking dreams.'

her features gradually softened; and suffering florence to come closer to her, within her embrace, she said in a tender manner, 'but what does my bird do here? what does my bird do here?'

'i have been uneasy, mama, in not seeing you to-night, and in not knowing how papa was; and i - '

florence stopped there, and said no more.

'is it late?' asked edith, fondly putting back the curls that mingled with her own dark hair, and strayed upon her face.

'very late. near day.'

'near day!' she repeated in surprise.

'dear mama, what have you done to your hand?' said florence.

edith drew it suddenly away, and, for a moment, looked at her with the same strange dread (there was a sort of wild avoidance in it) as before; but she presently said, 'nothing, nothing. a blow.' and then she said, 'my florence!' and then her bosom heaved, and she was weeping passionately.

'mama!' said florence. 'oh mama, what can i do, what should i do, to make us happier? is there anything?'

'nothing,' she replied.

'are you sure of that? can it never be? if i speak now of what is in my thoughts, in spite of what we have agreed,' said florence, 'you will not blame me, will you?'

'it is useless,' she replied, 'useless. i have told you, dear, that i have had bad dreams. nothing can change them, or prevent them coming back.'

'i do not understand,' said florence, gazing on her agitated face which seemed to darken as she looked.

'i have dreamed,' said edith in a low voice, 'of a pride that is all powerless for good, all powerful for evil; of a pride that has been galled and goaded, through many shameful years, and has never recoiled except upon itself; a pride that has debased its owner with the consciousness of deep humiliation, and never helped its owner boldly to resent it or avoid it, or to say, "this shall not be!" a pride that, rightly guided, might have led perhaps to better things, but which, misdirected and perverted, like all else belonging to the same possessor, has been self-contempt, mere hardihood and ruin.'

she neither looked nor spoke to florence now, but went on as if she were alone.

'i have dreamed,' she said, 'of such indifference and callousness, arising from this self-contempt; this wretched, inefficient, miserable pride; that it has gone on with listless steps even to the altar, yielding to the old, familiar, beckoning finger, - oh mother, oh mother! - while it spurned it; and willing to be hateful to itself for once and for all, rather than to be stung daily in some new form. mean, poor thing!'

and now with gathering and darkening emotion, she looked as she had looked when florence entered.

'and i have dreamed,' she said, 'that in a first late effort to achieve a purpose, it has been trodden on, and trodden down by a base foot, but turns and looks upon him. i have dreamed that it is wounded, hunted, set upon by dogs, but that it stands at hay, and will not yield; no, that it cannot if it would; but that it is urged on to hate

her clenched hand tightened on the trembling arm she had in hers, and as she looked down on the alarmed and wondering face, frown subsided. 'oh florence!' she said, 'i think i have been nearly mad to-night!' and humbled her proud head upon her neck and wept again.

'don't leave me! be near me! i have no hope but in you! these words she said a score of times.

soon she grew calmer, and was full of pity for the tears of florence, and for her waking at such untimely hours. and the day now dawning, with folded her in her arms and laid her down upon her bed, and, not lying down herself, sat by her, and bade her try to sleep.

'for you are weary, dearest, and unhappy, and should rest.'

'i am indeed unhappy, dear mama, tonight,' said florence. 'but you are weary and unhappy, too.'

'not when you lie asleep so near me, sweet.'

they kissed each other, and florence, worn out, gradually fell into a gentle slumber; but as her eyes closed on the face beside her, it was so sad to think upon the face downstairs, that her hand drew closer to edith for some comfort; yet, even in the act, it faltered, lest it should be deserting him. so, in her sleep, she tried to reconcile the two together, and to show them that she loved them both, but could not do it, and her waking grief was part of her dreams.

edith, sitting by, looked down at the dark eyelashes lying wet on the flushed cheeks, and looked with gentleness and pity, for she knew the truth. but no sleep hung upon her own eyes. as the day came on she still sat watching and waking, with the placid hand in hers, and sometimes whispered, as she looked at the hushed face, 'be near me, florence. i have no hope but in you!'

弗洛伦斯早就从迷梦中清醒过来，伤心地注视着她父亲和伊迪丝之间的疏远，看到他们之间的鸿沟愈来愈宽阔；并知道他们之间的痛苦逐日加深。每天增添的了解，加深了笼罩在她的爱与希望之上的阴影，并唤醒了入睡不久的旧日的悲哀，使它甚至比过去更为沉重了。

真诚的、恳切的、出乎天性的亲情变成了痛苦，冷淡的忽视或严厉的拒绝代替了亲切的保护与慈爱的关怀，这曾经是难受的——没有任何人，只有弗洛伦斯才知道这是多么难受！——在内心深处感受她曾经感受过的感情，而从来不曾享受过得到回答的幸福，这曾经是难受的。但是现在被迫地怀疑她的父亲或怀疑对她那么慈爱、亲切的伊迪丝，并怀着恐惧、不信任和纳闷的心情，交替地想着她对他们两人每个人的爱，这是更为难受的。

然而弗洛伦斯现在开始这样做了；这是她的纯洁的心灵强加给她的一项苦役，这是她所无法回避的。她看到父亲就像对待她一样，冷淡地、固执地对待伊迪丝，严酷无情，毫不妥协，决不让步。她含着眼泪问她自己：她的亲母亲是不是可能就是由于这样的对待而过着不幸福的生活，消瘦下去，最后死去的呢？然后她想到伊迪丝除了对她一个人之外，是多么高傲地、威严地对待每一个人，想到她是以多么轻蔑的态度对待他，她是多么远远地避开他，还想到她回家来的那天夜里所说过的话。弗洛伦斯突然间感到她犯了罪，因为她想到，她爱了一位反对她父亲的人；因为她想到，她父亲在寂寞的房间中知道这一点，一定会把她看成一个违反常情的女儿；这个女儿从出生之后从没有博得过他的父爱，如今除了这个她曾为它哭泣过多少次的老的过错之外，她又犯了一个新的错误了。下一次遇到伊迪丝时，她的第一句亲切的话语，第一道亲切的眼光又会动摇她的这些思想，使它们仿佛成为邪恶的忘恩负义；因为除了她，还有谁曾经使那么孤独那么痛苦的弗洛伦斯的消沉不振的心快活起来，成为它最好的安慰者呢？因此，弗洛伦斯现在不断地向往着他们两人，感受着他们两人的痛苦，暗中怀疑着她对他们两人所负的责任；在这样的情况下，当她怀着更宽广的、更扩展的爱，坐在伊迪丝的身旁时，她忍受着的痛苦要比过去她把她整个的秘密保藏在她悲哀的住宅中、她美丽的妈妈还没有到这里来时更大。

一个远远超过这个痛苦的非常的不幸，弗洛伦斯幸免了。她从来不曾怀疑过：伊迪丝对她的亲热会扩大她和她父亲之间的距离，或者会给他提供讨厌她的新的理由。如果弗洛伦斯设想过这样的可能性的话，那么她将会感到什么样的悲痛，她将会设法作出什么样的牺牲，可爱而又可怜的女孩子，她将会多么迅速、多么满怀信心地平平静静地走到那位更加崇高的父亲1前面去（这位父亲是不会拒绝他的孩子们的爱的，是不会摒弃他们的经过考验的、破碎了的心的），这一切只有上天才知道！可是情形并不是这样的，这很好。

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1指上帝。

现在弗洛伦斯与伊迪丝在这些问题上一句话也没有交谈过。伊迪丝曾经说过，在这方面，在她们之间应当有一道像坟墓一般的深沟和沉默；弗洛伦斯觉得她是对的。

就是在这样的情况下，她的父亲被抬回家来的；他忍受着痛苦，身体失去了行动的能力，忧闷不乐地隐居在他自己的房间中；仆人们在那里服侍他，但伊迪丝却没有到那里去看望过他。除了卡克先生之外，他没有别的朋友或伴侣。卡克先生在将近午夜的时候离开了。

“他是一位好同伴，弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊·尼珀说道，“啊，他是个了不起的宝贝！可是如果他什么时候需要一份品德推荐书的话，那么请他别来找我，这就是我要跟他说的一切。”

“亲爱的苏珊，”弗洛伦斯劝告道，“别说了！”

“啊，说声‘别说了’倒是很容易，弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀十分恼怒地回答道，“可是请原谅，我们的情况糟糕透顶，它使一个人身上的血都要变成带尖刺的别针和缝衣针了。请别误会我的意思，弗洛伊小姐，我这么说并不是要反对您的后妈，您的后妈总是以她贵夫人恰当的身份对待我，不过我必须说，她架子很大，虽然我没有权利反对这一点，但是当我们一提起这些个皮普钦太太，提起她们向我们发号施令，提起她们像鳄鱼一样在您爸爸门口守卫（谢天谢地她们幸好没有下蛋！），我们可真觉得太无法容忍下去了！”

“爸爸认为皮普钦太太不错，苏珊，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“您知道，他有权挑选他的女管家。请别说了！”

“唔弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀回答道，“当您对我说别说了，我希望我决不再说了，可是皮普钦太太对待我蛮横无礼，就像是没有成熟的醋栗1一样，小姐，一点也不差。”

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1没有成熟的醋栗：英国成语，指没有生活经验，浑然无知等。

在董贝先生抬回家来的这个夜晚，苏珊说话的时候异乎寻常地激动，比往常更缺少标点符号，这是因为当弗洛伦斯打发她下楼去打听他的健康情况时，她不得不向她不共戴天的敌人转达她的口讯；皮普钦太太没有把口讯捎进去让董贝先生知道，而是由她擅自作了一个尼珀姑娘称为傲慢无礼的回答。苏珊·尼珀把这解释为他们秘鲁矿井受害者的专横跋扈和一种不可饶恕的、轻视她小姐的行为；这可以部分说明她之所以格外激动的原因。不过自从董贝先生结婚以后，她的怀疑与不信任是大大地增大了，因为就像她那样性情的大多数人（她们对于一个像弗洛伦斯那样有着不同身份的人是怀着强烈的、真诚的感情的）一样，苏珊是很妒嫉的，她的妒嫉自然是针对着分割了她原先的帝国、插到她们中间来的伊迪丝。苏珊·尼珀看到她的年轻的女主人在她过去受到冷落的家中提高到适当的地位，看到她有她父亲漂亮的妻子当她的伴侣和保护人，这些确实使她感到自豪和高兴，可是她却不能把她的主权的任何一部分毫无怨恨、毫无敌意地让给这位漂亮的夫人，而且她还不难为这找到没有私心的正当理由，因为她敏锐地看出这位夫人的高傲与易怒的性格。所以，尼珀姑娘在董贝先生结婚以后不得不后退一步，从新的背景来观察家庭情况时，坚决相信：董贝夫人不会带来什么好处，可是她在一切可能的场合下总是很谨慎地表示，她没有什么反对她的话好说的。

“苏珊，”弗洛伦斯沉思地坐在桌旁，说道，“现在很晚了，今天我不再需要别的了。”

“唉，弗洛伊小姐，”尼珀回答道，“说实话，我时常希望回到过去的那段时光，那时候我跟您几个钟头坐在一起，坐得比现在还晚，我都累得睡着了，而您却像眼镜一样清醒，从来没有合过一下眼睛，但是现在您的后妈要来和您一起坐着了，弗洛伊小姐，说实话，我对这谢天谢地，我一句反对她的话也没有。”

“我不会忘记，在我没有朋友的时候，谁是我的老朋友，苏珊，”弗洛伦斯温柔地说道，“我永远也不会忘记！”然后她抬起眼睛，用胳膊搂着她的地位低微的朋友的脖子，把她的脸拉下来贴着她的脸，吻了吻，祝她晚安，这使尼珀姑娘感动得抽抽搭搭地哭了起来。

“我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，”苏珊说道，“现在请允许我再下楼去看看您的爸爸怎样了，我知道您为他非常忧虑不安，请允许我再下楼去，我自己去敲他的门。”

“不，”弗洛伦斯说道，“睡觉去吧。明天早上我们将会听到更多的消息。到早上，我自己来打听。妈妈想必一直在楼下，”弗洛伦斯脸红了，因为她并没有抱这样的希望；“或者她可能现在就在那里。晚安！”

苏珊的心情已经变得十分温柔，所以对董贝夫人是不是可能在照料她的丈夫，她不想说出她的看法，于是就一声不响地离开了。当弗洛伦斯独自留下的时候，她立刻像在其他日子里时常做的那样，用手捂着脸，让眼泪任情地流下来。家庭不和睦和不幸福带来了不幸；她曾经怀着希望（如果这可以称为希望的话），有朝一日能赢得她父亲的喜爱，如今这希望已经破灭了；她对她父亲和伊迪丝之间的关系怀着怀疑与恐惧；她纯洁的心胸同时向往着他们两人；过去在她心中曾经展现过一幅光明的希望与前途的美景，如今这样的结局又在她心中产生了沉痛的失望与惋惜；所有这一切都一齐涌集到她的心头，使她的眼泪簌簌地流了下来。她的母亲和弟弟死了；她的父亲对她漠不关心；伊迪丝反对和抛弃她的父亲，但却爱她并被她所爱；她觉得，她的爱不论落在什么地方，似乎都不会给她带来幸福。这个淡弱的思想很快就被她压了下去，但是产生这个思想的其它思想是太真实、太强烈了，要驱除它们是不可能的，这些思想使夜变得凄凉。

她父亲的形象在这些思念中间出现了，就像整天都曾出现过的那样；他受了伤，身上疼痛，现在躺在他自己的房间里，在孤独寂寞中，忍受着痛苦，度过缓慢的时光；那些应该是对他最亲近的人却没有他身旁照料他。一个使她害怕的思想——他可能死去，再也看不到她，再也不喊她的名字了——使她惊惧，并使她把手紧紧握着；虽然它并不是第一次出现在她心中，但它使她浑身震颤。她在激动的心情中想到再一次偷偷地跑下楼去，并大胆地走到他的门口，当她想到这一点的时候，她哆嗦着。

她在她自己的房间门口听着。公馆里静悄悄的，所有的灯光都熄灭了。她想到，自从她过去常到他房门口去作夜间的参拜以来，到现在已经是很久很久的时间了！她又想到，自从她在半夜里走进他的房间，他把她送到楼梯底以来，到现在已经是很久很久的时间了！

弗洛伦斯现在是豆蔻年华的美丽少女，但是与她父亲仍和幼儿时代一样生疏；现在她怀着一颗和过去同样的孩子的心，甚至带着同一双孩子的可爱的、胆怯的眼睛，披着同样散开的头发，边走边听，偷偷地下了楼，走近他的房间。公馆中没有一个人在走动。为了让空气进去，房门半开着；房间里面十分寂静，她可以听到炉火的燃烧声，还可以数出壁炉架上时钟的嘀嗒声。

她往里面探望。房间里，女管家用一条毯子裹着身子，正在壁炉前的一张安乐椅里熟睡。隔壁房间的门半掩着，门前立着一座屏风；可是那里有灯光，照射在他的床的靠背上。一切都很寂静，她可以从他的呼吸声中知道他睡着了。这使她鼓起勇气，绕过屏风，往他的卧室里探望。

她看到那睡着的脸孔时，大大地吃了一惊，仿佛她事前没有预料到会看到它似的。弗洛伦斯被吸引住，就地站在那里一动不动；如果他这时醒过来的话，那么她也一定会继续站在那里的。

他的前额上有一个伤口，他们把他的头发沾湿了，头发肮脏、错乱地披散在枕头上。他的一条胳膊搁在被子外面，用绷带包扎着。他的脸色十分苍白。可是，弗洛伦斯迅速地看了他一眼，确信他安静地睡着之后，使她站着不动的，并不是这些景象。在她的眼中，使他看去那么庄严的，是与这完全不同、比这具有更多意义的某种东西。

她一生中没有一次看到他的脸时，他的脸上不是因为知道有她在跟前而表露出（或是她想象那样表露出）烦恼不安的神色的；她一生中没有一次看到他的脸时，她的希望不在心中消沉的；在他脸孔那严厉的、毫无爱意的、令人望而生畏的生硬神色面前，她的胆怯的眼光没有一次不低垂下来的。现在当她看着他的时候，她第一次看到他的脸上不再笼罩着那块使她的童年暗淡无光的阴云。寂静的、安宁的夜代替了它。她看到这脸上的一切表情，心想，他可能已睡去了，同时还在祝福她呢。

醒来吧，冷酷的父亲！醒来吧，怏怏不乐的人！时间正在飞逝，钟点正踏着怒气冲冲的步伐来临了。醒来吧！

他的脸上没有变化；当她怀着敬畏的心情注视着它的时候，它那一动不动的、宁静的神色使她回想起那些已经消逝了的脸孔。那些脸孔看去全都是这样平静的。他将会这样平静的；她——他的哭泣着的女儿——也将会这样平静的，谁知道是在什么时候！周围世界上一切爱，一切恨，一切冷淡，全都会这样平静的！如果她做了她正想要去做的事情，那么，当那个时候来到的时候，他将不会感到沉重；对她来说，那个时候也将会是比较轻松的。

她悄悄地走近床边，吸进一口气，同时弯下身子，轻轻地吻了吻他的脸，把她自己的脸在他的脸旁边贴了短短的片刻时间，然后用胳膊环抱着他的枕头，因为她不敢用胳膊去碰到他。

醒来吧，命中注定难免一死的人，当她就在近旁的时候！时间在飞逝，钟点正踏着怒气冲冲的步伐临近了；它的脚已跨进屋里来了。醒来吧！

她在心中祈祷上帝保佑他的父亲，如果可能的话，那么请让他对她的态度温和一些，否则，如果他错了的话，那么就请宽恕他，并原谅她作了这几乎好像是虔诚的祷告。她作了这样的祷告之后，泪眼模糊地回头看了看他，胆怯地、悄悄地向门口走去，走出了他的卧室，穿过另一间房间，离开了。

他现在可以继续睡下去。当他可以睡的时候，他可以继续睡下去。可是当他醒来的时候，让他找一下这个身材苗条的人儿吧！当钟点来到的时候，让他看到她在近旁吧！

当弗洛伦斯偷偷地上楼去的时候，她的心是悲哀和痛苦的。从她到楼下去的时候起，这座寂静的房屋变得更为凄凉了。在这死一般万籁无声的深夜里，在她眼里，她所观察着的睡眠同时具有死和生的庄严。由于她自己行动的神秘性和寂静无声，夜也变得神秘、寂静、沉闷。她不愿意，也感到几乎不能够回到她自己的卧室里去，所以她就转到客厅里；被云遮蔽了的月亮正透过百叶窗把亮光照射进来，她在那里望着外面空荡荡的街道。

风凄凉地吹着。路灯看去是暗淡的，仿佛由于寒冷而颤抖着。在遥远的天空中有什么东西在闪闪烁烁，乍明乍灭，那不是完全黑暗，但也不是亮光；预感凶险的夜颤抖着，辗转不安，就像垂死的人在作最后的挣扎一样。弗洛伦斯记起，当她过去守护在病床旁边的时候，她曾怎样注意到这个凄凉的时刻，并感觉到它的影响，仿佛暗暗地、自然而然地对它感到嫌恶似的。现在它是很令人沮丧的。

这天夜里，她的妈妈没有到她的房间里来，这是她在外面坐得很晚的一个原因。由于心情不安，也由于强烈地渴望跟什么人谈谈话，来摆脱郁闷和寂静气氛的压迫，她就朝着她妈妈睡觉的那个房间走去。

房门里面没有锁上，她的手迟疑不决地碰了碰它，它就平静地开了。她惊奇地看到里面还有明亮的灯光；当她往里面探望的时候，她更惊奇地看到她的妈妈只脱去了一部分衣服，正坐在即将熄灭的壁炉旁边；炉子里的煤火已化为碎屑和灰烬了。她的眼睛全神贯注地看着空中；在她的眼光中，在她的脸上，在她的身姿中，在她紧紧抓住椅臂、仿佛就要跳起来的动作中，流露出十分强烈的情绪，弗洛伦斯看见了感到恐怖。

“妈妈！”她喊道，“怎么了？”

伊迪丝吃了一惊；她脸上露出一种十分奇怪的恐惧的神色，望着弗洛伦斯，弗洛伦斯感到更加恐怖。

“妈妈！”弗洛伦斯急忙走上前去，说道，“亲爱的妈妈，怎么了？”

“我感到不舒服，”伊迪丝颤抖着说道，同时用同样奇怪的神色望着她，“我做了一些恶梦，我亲爱的。”

“还没有上床睡觉吗，妈妈？”

“没有，”她回答道，“我做了一些半醒着的梦。”

她的脸色逐渐和缓下来；她让弗洛伦斯更靠近一些，拥抱着她，亲切地对她说道。“可是我的小鸟在这里做什么呢？

我的小鸟在这里做什么呢？”

“妈妈，今天夜里我没有见到你，也不知道爸爸怎样了，心里感到不安；我——”

弗洛伦斯停住了，不再往下说。

“现在晚了吗？”伊迪丝问道，一边喜爱地把弗洛伦斯那些跟她自己的黑发混合在一起、落在她脸上的卷发梳理回去。

“很晚了，很快就要天亮了。”

“很快就要天亮了！”她惊奇地重复着。

“亲爱的妈妈，你的手怎么了？”弗洛伦斯问道。

伊迪丝迅速地把手缩回去，在片刻间又像先前一样露出那同样奇怪的恐惧的神色，望着她，在这神色中似乎有一种想要隐藏起来不让人看见的极为强烈的愿望，可是她立刻又说道，“没有什么，没有什么，打了一下打伤了。”接着她说道，“我的弗洛伦斯！”然后她胸脯起伏着，纵情大哭起来。

“妈妈！”弗洛伦斯说道，“啊妈妈，我能做什么，我应当做什么，使我们更幸福些？有什么事可以做的吗？”

“没有什么事好做，”她回答道。

“你真相信那样吗？难道这是永远做不到的吗？如果现在我不顾我们达成的协议，把我头脑里所想的说出来，你不会责怪我吗？”弗洛伦斯问道。

“这没有用，”她回答道，“没有用。我已经告诉你，亲爱的，我做了一些恶梦。没有什么能改变它们或防止它们重现。”

“我不明白，”弗洛伦斯注视着她的激动的脸，说道；当她望着它的时候，它似乎阴沉下来了。

“我梦见了一种高傲，”伊迪丝低声说道，“它对于善是毫无能力的，但对于恶却无所不能；我梦见了一种高傲，它在许多可耻的年月中被鼓励着和怂恿着；它从不退缩，除非是退缩到它本身；我梦见了一种高傲，它以一种深深的羞辱感贬损了它的主人，却从来不帮助它的主人大胆地去憎恨这种羞辱或者避开它，或者说，‘不要这样子！’我梦见了一种高傲，如果正确地引导它，它也许会导致较好的结果，可是如果引导错了或误用了，就像这同一位主人所拥有的其他品质的情形一样，那就只能是导致自我轻蔑、狂妄直至毁灭。”

现在她既不看着弗洛伦斯，也不对着她讲话，而是继续这样讲下去，仿佛房间里就只有她一个人一样。

“我梦见了从这种自我轻蔑所产生的和从这种不幸的、无能为力的、可怜的高傲所产生的这样一种漠不关心和冷酷无情，它使得它的主人迈着无精打采的步子，甚至走向圣坛，服从那古老的、熟悉的、指挥的手指——唉，妈妈呀，唉，妈妈呀！——虽然它实际上是唾弃这手指的；而且愿意一劳永逸地憎恨它自己，而不愿意每天忍受新形式的痛苦。卑贱的、可怜的人儿啊！”

这时，她就像弗洛伦斯刚进来的时候那样，怀着激动的、阴沉的情绪看着。

“我还梦见，”她说道，“这个人作了为时已晚的努力去达到一个目的时，她被一只卑劣的脚践踏下去，可是她抬起头来看看践踏她的人。我梦见，她被狗咬伤、追赶、袭击，可是当她被逼得走投无路的时候，她不愿意屈服；是的，只要她不想屈服，她就不能屈服，而是有什么东西驱策着她去恨他，反对他，向他挑战！”

她的紧握着的手把她怀中那只颤抖的胳膊抱得更紧；当她向下看到那张受惊的、困惑的脸时，她自己的脸色平静下来了。“啊，弗洛伦斯！”她说道，“我想我今天夜里近乎发疯了！”接着，她把高傲的头温顺地低垂到她的胸前，又哭了起来。

“不要离开我！在我的近旁吧！我没有别的希望，我的一切希望都寄托在你身上了！”

不久她安静下来一些，对流着眼泪和这么晚还没有去睡觉的弗洛伦斯充满了怜悯。这时天已破晓，伊迪丝用胳膊抱着她，把她放在自己的床上；她自己没有躺下，而是坐在她的身旁，叮嘱她睡去。

“我最亲爱的，你累了，又不快活，应当休息了。”

“亲爱的妈妈，今天夜里我确实不快活，”弗洛伦斯说道，“但是你也累了，也不快活。”

“亲爱的，当你这么挨近我的身旁睡去的时候，我就不会不快活了。”

她们相互接吻；弗洛伦斯精疲力竭，渐渐地进入了温柔的睡乡；但是当她的眼睛闭上，看不到在她身旁的那张脸的时候，她是多么悲伤地想到了楼下的那张脸，因此她把手往伊迪丝那里伸近一点，以便得到一些安慰；可是甚至在这样做的时候，她的动作也是迟疑不决的，唯恐这会背弃他。就这样，她在睡眠中设法使他们两人重新和好，并向他们表示，她同时爱他们两人，但是她不能做到这一点，她醒着时的痛苦成了她的梦的一部分。

伊迪丝坐在旁边，往下看着那乌黑的、潮湿的眼睫毛披垂在发红的脸颊上，而且是温柔地、怜悯地看着，因为她知道真情。可是她自己的眼睛还没有因为想睡而闭上。天愈来愈亮，她却仍旧坐在那里，手中拉着那只宁静的手，守护着，醒着；当她看着那张悄静无声的脸时，她不时低声说道，“在我的近旁吧，弗洛伦斯，我没有别的希望，我的一切希望都寄托在你身上了！”