第48部分(第4/7 页)

en　asleep　on　the　sofa　over　the　perusal　of　a　novel；　Eliza　was　gone　to　attend　a　saint’s…day　service　at　the　new　church—for　in　matters　of　religion　she　was　a　rigid　formalist：　no　weather　ever　prevented　the　punctual　discharge　of　what　she　considered　her　devotional　duties；　fair　or　foul；　she　went　to　church　thrice　every　Sunday；　and　as　often　on　week…　days　as　there　were　prayers。

I　bethought　myself　to　go　upstairs　and　see　how　the　dying　woman　sped；　who　lay　there　almost　unheeded：　the　very　servants　paid　her　but　a　remittent　attention：　the　hired　nurse；　being　little　looked　after；　would　slip　out　of　the　room　whenever　she　could。　Bessie　was　faithful；　but　she　had　her　own　family　to　mind；　and　could　only　e　occasionally　to　the　hall。　I　found　the　sick…room　unwatched；　as　I　had　expected：　no　nurse　was　there；　the　patient　lay　still；　and　seemingly　lethargic；　her　livid　face　sunk　in　the　pillows：　the　fire　was　dying　in　the　grate。　I　renewed　the　fuel；　re…arranged　the　bedclothes；　gazed　awhile　on　her　who　could　not　now　gaze　on　me；　and　then　I　moved　away　to　the　window。

The　rain　beat　strongly　against　the　panes；　the　wind　blew　tempestuously：　“One　lies　there；”　I　thought；　“who　will　soon　be　beyond　the　war　of　earthly　elements。　Whither　will　that　spirit—noaterial　tenement—flit　when　at　length　released？”

In　pondering　the　great　mystery；　I　thought　of　Helen　Burns；　recalled　her　dying　words—her　faith—her　doctrine　of　the　equality　of　disembodied　souls。　I　was　still　listening　in　thought　to　her　well…　remembered　tones—still　picturing　her　pale　and　spiritual　aspect；　her　wasted　face　and　sublime　gaze；　as　she　lay　on　her　placid　deathbed；　and　whispered　her　longing　to　be　restored　to　her　divine　Father’s　bosom—　when　a　feeble　voice　murmured　from　the　couch　behind：　“Who　is　that？”

I　knew　Mrs。　Reed　had　not　spoken　for　days：　was