6 Monsieur Héger and Mrs Robinson 
　  
　　At first everything went well．Monsieur Héger wrote to me often．He was pleased with my daughters，he said；they were good pupils．But life at home in Haworth was hard．My curate died， and Aunt Branwell became very ill． Emily and Charlotte came home to see her， but she was dead before they arrived． 
　　She was a good woman，Elizabeth Branwell．She kept my home for more than twenty years， and she taught my daughters everything she knew． But she never liked Haworth， I am sure of that．She said it was a cold，miserable place．I hope that God has found somewhere warm and comfortable for her now． 
　　But how could I live without her？My eyes were now very bad，and I could not see to read．And our servant Tabby was older than I was．Anne could not help me—she was a gov－erness for the Robinson family，and now Branwell had a job there too，teaching their young son．So Charlotte went back to Brussels alone，this time as a teacher in Monsieur Héger's school．Emily stayed at home to cook and clean for me．She did not like Brussels，she said．She was happy to do the housework，and live at home with Tabby and me． 
　　She was a strange，quiet girl，Emily．She was the tallest of the girls，and in some ways she was as strong as a man．She loved to walk by herself on the wild lonely moors， with her dog Keeper running by her side．Sometimes I saw her there，singing or talking quietly to herself，and I thought perhaps she could see the people in her secret world of Gondal，and was talking to them．I know that she spent a lot of time writing alone in her room；and when Anne was at home，she and Emily often talked and wrote about the world of Gondal together． 
　　There were sometimes dangerous people near Haworth， so I always had a gun in the house．Before my eyes were bad，I taught Emily to shoot—she loved that．Sometimes I used to practise shooting in the garden while she was making bread in the kitchen．I shot first，then I called Emily．She came out， cleaned her hands， picked up the gun， shot， and went back in to finish the bread．She was much better at shooting than I was． 
　　But by 1844 my eyes were too bad for shooting．Emily cooked，cleaned the house， played the piano．And almost every day she went for long walks on the moors with her dog，Keeper． 
　　She loved that dog， but she could be very hard with him，too．We did not let him go upstairs，but one day Tabby found him on my bed．Emily was very angry；her face was white and hard．Keeper was a big， strong dog， but she pulled him down－stairs and hit him again and again until the dog was nearly blind．Then she gently washed his cuts herself．He never went upstairs again． 
　　Charlotte was another year in Brussels．When she came home，she was quiet and sad．Sometimes she wrote long letters in French to Monsieur Héger，but no letters came from him．But this was a time of hope，too．The girls wrote advertise－ments for their new school，and sent them to newspapers，and to everybody they knew．It was exciting—they were good ad-vertisements，and we waited for the first children to come． 
　　We waited a long time，and Charlotte wrote more advertise-ments． 
　　No children came． 
　　Every day Charlotte and Emily waited for a letter from the postman，or for a parent to come to see them．Every day they became more miserable． 
　　Anne left her job with the Robinsons and came home to Ha－worth．A month later Branwell also came home，for a holiday． 
　　And then one morning，early，there was a knock on the door．Charlotte ran to open it．But it was not a parent—it was a letter for her brother Branwell．He went upstairs with it，smiling． 
　　A few minutes later there was a terrible scream．We ran up－stairs to Branwell's room．He lay on his bed，screaming，with a white face and wild dark eyes．The letter was in his hand． 
　　'Branwell！What is it？What's the matter？'I asked． 
　　He tore his hair with his hands．'I'm ill，'he said．'I'm cold —Oh，what does it matter？She doesn't care...I can't see her...Oh，it's all finished now，finished for ever！I'll die without her！' 
　　'Here，Branwell，drink this．'Emily brought him a cup of hot milk，but his hand was shaking and he nearly dropped it． 
　　Charlotte put her hand on his head．'He's hot，papa，he's burning，'she said．'You must go to bed at once，Branwell．' 
　　He went to bed，and he lay there，sometimes sleeping，some－times shouting and crying．I tried to talk to him，but I couldn't understand what he said．Then，later，Anne explaind． 
　　She told us a terrible story．I was so angry！I nearly broke a chair with my hands as I listened．My son Branwell，Anne said，was in love with Mrs Robinson，the rich mother of his pupil．For months this lady had spoken kindly to Branwell，walked with him in the garden，talked to him alone in the evenings．He tnought she would marry him when her husband died．And then there were other things，that Anne did not want to speak about． 
　　The letter was from Mr Robinson．He was often ill，Anne told us，but his children knew about Branwell and their mother，and the servants knew too，I think．Perhaps Mr Robin－son had learnt something from them，or perhaps that woman（I cannot call her a wife） had told him everything．Only one thing was certain—in his letter Mr Robinson had ordered Branwell never to return to his house or to speak to any of his family again． 
　　My face was hot and my hands were shaking．I tried to talk to Branwell about it，but it was impossible． 
　　'I love her，papa！'he shouted．'You don't understand—how can you？You've never seen her！' 
　　'I don't want to see her，my son，'I said．'I understand that she is a bad，evil woman．I hope that God will punish her and…' 
　　'Don't say that，papa！'he screamed．'You are talking about the woman I love！She will call me back！I will see her again！' 
　　'I hope you never see her again，my son，'I said．'You must forget her．Branwell，listen to me…' 
　　But he did not listen．He ran out of the house．He did not come back until the evening，and then he was drunk．He did not listen that day，or the next day，or any day．He began to drink laudanum as well．I thought he would kill himself． 
　　So I think Charlotte was pleased that no parents came．No school could have a man like Branwell in it． 
　  
6 埃热先生和罗宾逊太太 
　  
　　起先每件事都进展顺利，埃热先生时常给我写信，他说和我的女儿们相处愉快，她们都是好学生，可是在霍沃斯，家里的生活变得艰难了。我的副牧师死了，布兰韦尔姨妈病得很重。爱米丽和夏洛特赶回来看她，可她还是在她们到家之前就去世了。 
　　伊丽莎白·布兰韦尔是个好女人，她管理我们家二十多年，她尽自己所知教育我的女儿们。但我肯定她从未喜欢过霍沃斯。她说这地方又寒冷又悲惨。我希望上帝现在为她准备了一个温暖而舒适的地方。 
　　但是没有她我还怎么过日子？我的视力现在糟糕透顶，已经无法看书了。而我们的老用人泰比比我岁数还大。安妮也帮不上忙——她是罗宾逊家的家庭教师，现在布兰韦尔也在那儿教他们的小儿子。所以夏洛蒂只好一个人回布鲁塞尔，这回她成了埃热先生学校的老师。爱米丽留在家里为我们做饭和打扫房子。她说她不喜欢布鲁塞尔。她喜欢做家务，喜欢和泰比及我一起在家里生活。 
　　爱米丽是个奇怪而安静的姑娘。儿女中数她个子最高，某些方面她像个男人一样坚强。她喜欢独自在荒野中漫步，“管家”总跟在她旁边跑着，有时我看见她在那里轻轻地给自己唱歌、说话。我觉得她能看见神秘的哥恩达尔世界中的人物，并和他们交谈。我知道她花了大量的时间在房间里一个人写作。当安妮回家时，她俩经常一起写哥恩达尔世界的故事。 
　　有时霍沃斯附近会出现一些危险人物，所以我家中常备着枪。在我视力变坏以前，我曾教爱米丽射击——她也喜欢射击。有时我在花园里练枪法，她在厨房做面包，我先打，然后叫爱米丽，她出来擦干净手，拿起枪，扣一下扳机，然后又回厨房接着做面包。她打得可比我好多了。 
　　但是到了1844年，我的视力糟得不能射击了。爱米丽做饭、打扫屋子、弹琴，几乎每天都和“管家”在荒野中走很远的路。 
　　她爱那条狗，但也对它很严厉，它不能上楼。可是有一天泰比发现它睡在我的床上。爱米丽非常生气，脸变得苍白、阴沉。“管家”是一条大狗，但是她一把就将它拖下楼，把它揍来揍去，几乎打瞎了。然后她自己又轻轻地给它洗伤。从此它再也没有上过楼。 
　　夏洛蒂在布鲁塞尔又呆了一年。再回家时她变得沉默、忧伤。有时她用法语给埃热先生写长长的信，但没有收到回信。不过这段时间也充满着希望，女儿们为她们的新学校写广告，寄给报社，寄给她们认识的所有人。真令人兴奋——那些出色的广告，我们期待着第一批学生的到来。 
　　我们等了很久，同时夏洛蒂又写了更多的广告。 
　　可是没有孩子来。 
　　每天夏洛蒂和爱米丽都等着邮差送信，期待着某一对父母来找她们。一天又一天她们都变得越发伤心。 
　　安妮辞去了她在罗宾逊家中的工作，回到霍沃斯的家中。一个月后，布兰韦尔也回家来度假。 
　　一天清早，一阵敲门声响了起来。夏洛蒂跑过去开门，但那不是某一对父母，而是一封给她弟弟布兰韦尔的信。他微笑着拿上楼去了。 
　　几分钟后房间里传出来一声可怕的尖叫。我们跑上楼，冲进布兰韦尔的房间。他躺在床上，尖叫着，脸色苍白，深色眼睛流露出狂野的神色。那封信紧紧攥在他手里。 
　　“布兰韦尔，那是什么信？你怎么了？”我问。 
　　他双手撕扯着头发。“我生病了。”他说，“我觉得冷——噢，那又怎么样，她并不关心……我见不到她了……噢，现在全完了，永远完了！没有她我会死的！” 
　　“来吧，布兰韦尔，把这个喝了。”爱米丽端来一杯热牛奶，可他双手颤抖得几乎拿不住杯子。 
　　夏洛蒂用手试试他的头。“好烫呀，爸爸。他在发烧。”她说，“你必须立即躺下，布兰韦尔。” 
　　他上了床，躺在那儿，一会睡着了，但一会儿又大喊大叫。我试着和他说话，却弄不明白他在说什么。后来安妮解释了一切。 
　　她告诉了我们一个可怕的故事。我非常生气！听的时候差点把一把椅子捏碎了。我的儿子布兰韦尔，安妮说，爱上了罗宾逊太太，就是他那学生的有钱母亲。有几个月，这个女人对布兰韦尔甜言蜜语，和他在花园散步，晚上和他单独谈话。他觉得等她丈夫死后，她就会嫁给他。后来又发生了别的事情，安妮不想说了。 
　　信是罗宾逊先生写的。他时常生病，安妮说。可他的孩子们知道布兰韦尔和他们母亲的事情。我猜想连用人可能也知道了。也许罗宾逊先生从他俩那儿看出了什么，或许那个女人（我无法称她为一个妻子）已经告诉了他一切。只有一件事是肯定的——在信中罗宾逊先生命令布兰韦尔永远不得踏进他的家门，也不能再与他的家人讲话。 
　　我的脸在发烧，双手颤抖。我想和布兰韦尔谈谈这事，但不可能。 
　　“我爱她，爸爸！”他喊道，“你不懂，你怎么能懂呢？你又从未见过她！” 
　　“我不想见她，儿子。”我说，“我只懂得她是个坏女人，一个邪恶的女人。我希望上帝惩罚她……” 
　　“别说了，爸爸！”他声嘶力竭地喊道，“你在说一个我爱的女人！她会叫我回去的！我会再见到她的。” 
　　“我希望你不要再见她了，儿子。”我说，“你必须忘了她。布兰韦尔，听我说……” 
　　但他没有听，他从房间里冲了出去，直到晚上才回来，已是醉醺醺的了。那天他没有听我说完，第二天也没有，以后再也没有。他还开始喝鸦片酊，我觉得他会害死自己的。 
　　所以我觉得夏洛蒂会高兴没有学生父母来。没有哪所学校能容得下布兰韦尔这样的人。 
　　　    


 