Chapter 39
第三十九章
菲利普把自己的打算向布莱克斯泰勃教区牧师和盘托出，但是后者说什么也不肯点头同意。他有这么种高见：一个人不管干什么，都得有始有终。他也像所有软弱无能者一样，过分强调不该朝三暮四，见异思迁。
"当初要当会计师，那可纯粹出于你自愿，谁也没强迫过你，"他说。"
"我当初所以选中这一行，是因为我当时看到要进城，就只有这么个机会。我现在讨厌伦敦，讨厌那差使，说什么也别想叫我再回那儿去。"
听到菲利普要想习艺当画家，凯里夫妇丝毫不掩饰他们的满腔愤慨。他们正告菲利普，别忘了他父母是上等人，画画儿可不是个正经的行业，那是放荡不羁之徒干的，既不体面，又不讲道德。而且还要上巴黎！
"只要我在这事情上还有点发言权，我是决不会放你去巴黎鬼混的，"牧师口气坚决地说。
那是个罪恶的渊薮。妖艳的荡妇，巴比伦的娼妓，在那儿公开炫耀自己的罪恶，普天之下再也找不到比它更邪恶的城市了。
"你从小受到良好教育，有着上等人和基督徒的教养，如果我放你到魔窟去受诱惑，我就辜负了你已故双亲对我的嘱托。"
"嗯，我知道我不是个基督徒，现在甚至连自己是不是上等人也开始。有点怀疑，"菲利普说。
双方唇枪舌剑，各不相让。菲利普还得等上一年才能自行支配父亲留下的那一小笔遗产。凯里先生明确提出，在这期问菲利普要想得到生活费，非得继续留在事务所里不可。
菲利普明白，自己如果不打算继续干会计师这行当，必须趁现在离开，这样，所付的见习合同费还可以收回一半。但牧师根本听不进去。菲利普再也按捺不住，冲口说了些刺耳、伤人的话。
"你有什么权利把我的钱往水里扔！"最后他这么说。"这毕竟是我的钱，不是吗？我义不是三岁娃娃。如果我拿定主意去巴黎，你想拦也拦不住。你想强迫我回伦敦，办不到！"
"要是你干的事我认为不合适，我一个子儿也不给，这一点我是办得刊的。"
"好吧，我才不在乎呢！反正巴黎我是去定了，我可以变卖我的衣服、书籍，还有我父亲的首饰。"
路易莎伯母默默地坐在一边，又焦急又痛心她看到菲利普已经气昏了头，知道自己这时候不管说些什么，都只会往火上浇油。最后，牧师宣称他不想再谈论此事，说罢，神气十足地离开了房间。叔侄俩一连三天彼此不理不睬。菲利普写信给海沃德询问巴黎的情况，决计一有回音立即动身。凯里太太翻来覆去琢磨这件事。她觉得菲利普由于怨恨她丈人，结果把她自己也牵扯了进去。这个想法使她好生苦恼。她打心眼里疼爱这孩子。最后她主动找菲利普谈了，菲利普向她倾诉衷肠，谈到自己对伦敦所抱幻想的破灭，谈到对前途的憧憬和自己的远大志向，她一字不漏地悉心听着。
"也许，我混不出什么名堂来，但至少得让我试试。总不至于比呆在那个讨厌的事务所内更没出息。我感到自己还能画上几笔，自觉在这方面还有几分天赋。"
她并不像丈夫那样自信，认为侄儿想当什么画家，显然是鬼迷了心窍，做长辈的理当出面阻挠。但她看过一些大画家的传记，那些画家的父母都反对他们去学画习艺，事实证明这种做法有多愚蠢。再说，一个画家毕竟也可能像会计师那样，过贞洁的生活，为主增添荣耀嘛。
"我担心的倒是你去巴黎这一点，"她凄凄切切地说。"如果你在伦敦学画，那倒也算了。"
"要学就得学到家，真正的绘画艺术只有在巴黎才能学到手。"
凯里太太根据菲利普的建议，给律师写了封信，说菲利普不满意伦敦的差使，要是现在改弦更张，不知他高见以为如何。尼克逊先生作了如下的回复：
亲爱的凯里太太：
我已拜访过赫伯特'卡特先生，恐不能不如实相告，令侄这一年并未取得令人满意的进展。如若令侄辞意甚坚，则趁此机会及早解约为好。我自然颇感失望，但正如俗话所说："君可牵马去河边，焉能迫其饮河水？
你的忠诚的
阿尔贝特·尼克逊
信拿给牧师看了，结果反倒使他越发固执己见。他愿意让菲利普改换门庭，另外找个职业，甚至建议他继承父业，去当医生。然而，菲利普要是执意去巴黎，那就休想从他手中拿到一个子儿生活费。
"这无非是为自我放纵、耽于声色找个借日罢了，"牧师说。
"听到你责怪别人自我放纵，我觉得挺有趣的，"菲利普语中带刺地顶撞一句。
这时，海沃德已有回信来了。信中提到一家旅馆的名字，菲利普出三十法郎的月租，可以在那儿租到一个房间。信内还附了封给某美术学校女司库的介绍信。菲利普把信念给凯里太太听，并对她说，他打算在九月一日动身。
"可你身边一个子儿也没有呀？"她说。
"今天下午我打算去坎特伯雷变卖首饰。"
他父亲留给他一只带金链的金表、两三枚戒指和几副链扣，另外还有两枚饰针，其中一枚镶有珍珠，可以卖大价钱。
"买进是个宝，卖出是裸草，"路易莎伯母说。
菲利普笑了笑，因为这是他大伯的一句日头禅。
"这我知道。不过，我想这些玩意儿至少可以卖一百镑。有了这笔钱，我总能维持到二十一岁了吧。"
凯里太太没答腔，径自上了楼，戴上她那顶黑色小无边帽，随后出门去银行。一小时后她回来了。她进了起居室，走到正在埋头看书的菲利普面前，交给他一只信封袋。
"是什么呀？"他问。
"给你的一份薄礼，"她回答说，赧然一笑。
他拆开信封袋一看，里边有十一张五镑的钞票，还有一个塞满一枚枚金镑的小纸包。
"我不忍心眼睁睁看着你变卖你父亲的首饰。这是我存在银行里的钱，差不多有一百镑了。"
菲利普刷地红了脸，不知怎地，他心头一酸，顿时热泪盈眶。
"哦，亲爱的，这个我可不能拿，"他说。"你心肠真好，不过我怎么也不能忍心收下这笔钱。"
凯里太太出阁时，手头攒有三百镑的私房钱，她守着这笔钱一个子儿也舍不得乱花，临到有什么意想不到的开支，才拿出一点来救救急，比如要捐助一笔火烧眉毛的赈款啊，或是给伯侄俩买件把圣诞节或生日礼物什么的。这些年来，这笔可怜巴巴的款子虽然所剩无几，但仍被牧师当作打趣的笑料，他说到妻子时总称她"阔奶奶"，而且不断念叨那笔一私房钱"。
"哦，菲利普，请收下吧。只怪我平时用钱大手大脚，现在就只剩这些了。要是你肯收下，会使我很高兴的。"
"可你自己也很需要啊，"菲利普说。
"不，我想我用不着了。我留着这笔钱，原是防你大伯先我而去。我想，手头有点什么总有好处，可以应付应付不时之需，但现在想想，我已行将就木，活不了多久了。"
"哦，亲爱的，快别这么说。呃，你一定会长生不老的。我可少不了您啊。"
"哦，我现在可以瞑目了。"她双手掩面，语音颤抖着，说不出话来。俄顷，她擦干泪水，勇敢地破涕一笑。"起初，我常祈求上帝别把我先召去，因为我不愿让你大伯孤零零地留在世上，我不想让他忍痛受苦。但现在我已明白过来，他并不像我，不会把这一切看得那么重。他比我更想活。我从来就不是他理想的生活伴侣，要是我有个三长两短，我看他说不定会续弦再娶的。所以我希望能先走一步。菲利普，我这么说，你不会以为我自私吧。如果他先去了，我就受不了。"
菲利普亲了亲她那布满皱纹的瘦削面颊。他不明白，见到这种深情挚爱、催人涕下的场面，自己反会莫名其妙地感到羞惭。对那么个极其冷漠自私、极其粗俗任性的男人，她却这般关怀备至，简直不可理解。菲利普隐隐约约地捉摸到，尽管她心里明明知道丈夫冷漠自私，是的，她全明白，但还是低三下四地爱着他。
"你肯收下这笔钱的吧，菲利普？"她一面说，一面轻轻地抚摸菲利普。的手。"我知道你没有这笔钱也凑合得过去，但你收下这笔钱，会给我带来莫大的幸福。我一直想要为你做点什么。你看，我自己没养过孩子，我爱你，一直把你当作我的亲生儿子。你小时候，我差不多还巴望你生病来着，尽管我知道这个念头很邪恶，但是这一来我就可以日日夜夜地守护在。你身边。可惜你只生了一次病，后来你就去上学了。我非常想给你出点力。这是我一生中绝无仅有的一次机会了。说不定有朝一日你真的成了大画家，你就不会忘记我，你会想到是我第一个资助你创业的。"
"您老心肠真好，"菲利普说，"我说不出对您有多感激。"。
她疲惫的眼睛里，浮现出一缕笑意，这是一种发自心田的幸福笑意。
"哦，我多么高兴！"
The Vicar of Blackstable would have nothing to do with the scheme which Philip laid before him. He had a great idea that one should stick to whatever one had begun. Like all weak men he laid an exaggerated stress on not changing one’s mind.
‘You chose to be an accountant of your own free will,’ he said.
‘I just took that because it was the only chance I saw of getting up to town. I hate London, I hate the work, and nothing will induce me to go back to it.’
Mr. and Mrs. Carey were frankly shocked at Philip’s idea of being an artist. He should not forget, they said, that his father and mother were gentlefolk, and painting wasn’t a serious profession; it was Bohemian, disreputable, immoral. And then Paris!
‘So long as I have anything to say in the matter, I shall not allow you to live in Paris,’ said the Vicar firmly.
It was a sink of iniquity. The scarlet woman and she of Babylon flaunted their vileness there; the cities of the plain were not more wicked.
‘You’ve been brought up like a gentleman and Christian, and I should be false to the trust laid upon me by your dead father and mother if I allowed you to expose yourself to such temptation.’
‘Well, I know I’m not a Christian and I’m beginning to doubt whether I’m a gentleman,’ said Philip.
The dispute grew more violent. There was another year before Philip took possession of his small inheritance, and during that time Mr. Carey proposed only to give him an allowance if he remained at the office. It was clear to Philip that if he meant not to continue with accountancy he must leave it while he could still get back half the money that had been paid for his articles. The Vicar would not listen. Philip, losing all reserve, said things to wound and irritate.
‘You’ve got no right to waste my money,’ he said at last. ‘After all it’s my money, isn’t it? I’m not a child. You can’t prevent me from going to Paris if I make up my mind to. You can’t force me to go back to London.’
‘All I can do is to refuse you money unless you do what I think fit.’
‘Well, I don’t care, I’ve made up my mind to go to Paris. I shall sell my clothes, and my books, and my father’s jewellery.’
Aunt Louisa sat by in silence, anxious and unhappy. she saw that Philip was beside himself, and anything she said then would but increase his anger. Finally the Vicar announced that he wished to hear nothing more about it and with dignity left the room. For the next three days neither Philip nor he spoke to one another. Philip wrote to Hayward for information about Paris, and made up his mind to set out as soon as he got a reply. Mrs. Carey turned the matter over in her mind incessantly; she felt that Philip included her in the hatred he bore her husband, and the thought tortured her. She loved him with all her heart. At length she spoke to him; she listened attentively while he poured out all his disillusionment of London and his eager ambition for the future.
‘I may be no good, but at least let me have a try. I can’t be a worse failure than I was in that beastly office. And I feel that I can paint. I know I’ve got it in me.’
She was not so sure as her husband that they did right in thwarting so strong an inclination. She had read of great painters whose parents had opposed their wish to study, the event had shown with what folly; and after all it was just as possible for a painter to lead a virtuous life to the glory of God as for a chartered accountant.
‘I’m so afraid of your going to Paris,’ she said piteously. ‘It wouldn’t be so bad if you studied in London.’
‘If I’m going in for painting I must do it thoroughly, and it’s only in Paris that you can get the real thing.’
At his suggestion Mrs. Carey wrote to the solicitor, saying that Philip was discontented with his work in London, and asking what he thought of a change. Mr. Nixon answered as follows:
Dear Mrs. Carey,
I have seen Mr. Herbert Carter, and I am afraid I must tell you that Philip has not done so well as one could have wished. If he is very strongly set against the work, perhaps it is better that he should take the opportunity there is now to break his articles. I am naturally very disappointed, but as you know you can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make him drink.
Yours very sincerely, Albert Nixon.
The letter was shown to the Vicar, but served only to increase his obstinacy. He was willing enough that Philip should take up some other profession, he suggested his father’s calling, medicine, but nothing would induce him to pay an allowance if Philip went to Paris.
‘It’s a mere excuse for self-indulgence and sensuality,’ he said.
‘I’m interested to hear you blame self-indulgence in others,’ retorted Philip acidly.
But by this time an answer had come from Hayward, giving the name of a hotel where Philip could get a room for thirty francs a month and enclosing a note of introduction to the massiere of a school. Philip read the letter to Mrs. Carey and told her he proposed to start on the first of September.
‘But you haven’t got any money?’ she said.
‘I’m going into Tercanbury this afternoon to sell the jewellery.’
He had inherited from his father a gold watch and chain, two or three rings, some links, and two pins. One of them was a pearl and might fetch a considerable sum.
‘It’s a very different thing, what a thing’s worth and what it’ll fetch,’ said Aunt Louisa.
Philip smiled, for this was one of his uncle’s stock phrases.
‘I know, but at the worst I think I can get a hundred pounds on the lot, and that’ll keep me till I’m twenty-one.’
Mrs. Carey did not answer, but she went upstairs, put on her little black bonnet, and went to the bank. In an hour she came back. She went to Philip, who was reading in the drawing-room, and handed him an envelope.
‘What’s this?’ he asked.
‘It’s a little present for you,’ she answered, smiling shyly.
He opened it and found eleven five-pound notes and a little paper sack bulging with sovereigns.
‘I couldn’t bear to let you sell your father’s jewellery. It’s the money I had in the bank. It comes to very nearly a hundred pounds.’
Philip blushed, and, he knew not why, tears suddenly filled his eyes.
‘Oh, my dear, I can’t take it,’ he said. ‘It’s most awfully good of you, but I couldn’t bear to take it.’
When Mrs. Carey was married she had three hundred pounds, and this money, carefully watched, had been used by her to meet any unforeseen expense, any urgent charity, or to buy Christmas and birthday presents for her husband and for Philip. In the course of years it had diminished sadly, but it was still with the Vicar a subject for jesting. He talked of his wife as a rich woman and he constantly spoke of the ‘nest egg.’
‘Oh, please take it, Philip. I’m so sorry I’ve been extravagant, and there’s only that left. But it’ll make me so happy if you’ll accept it.’
‘But you’ll want it,’ said Philip.
‘No, I don’t think I shall. I was keeping it in case your uncle died before me. I thought it would be useful to have a little something I could get at immediately if I wanted it, but I don’t think I shall live very much longer now.’
‘Oh, my dear, don’t say that. Why, of course you’re going to live for ever. I can’t possibly spare you.’
‘Oh, I’m not sorry.’ Her voice broke and she hid her eyes, but in a moment, drying them, she smiled bravely. ‘At first, I used to pray to God that He might not take me first, because I didn’t want your uncle to be left alone, I didn’t want him to have all the suffering, but now I know that it wouldn’t mean so much to your uncle as it would mean to me. He wants to live more than I do, I’ve never been the wife he wanted, and I daresay he’d marry again if anything happened to me. So I should like to go first. You don’t think it’s selfish of me, Philip, do you? But I couldn’t bear it if he went.’
Philip kissed her wrinkled, thin cheek. He did not know why the sight he had of that overwhelming love made him feel strangely ashamed. It was incomprehensible that she should care so much for a man who was so indifferent, so selfish, so grossly self-indulgent; and he divined dimly that in her heart she knew his indifference and his selfishness, knew them and loved him humbly all the same.
‘You will take the money, Philip?’ she said, gently stroking his hand. ‘I know you can do without it, but it’ll give me so much happiness. I’ve always wanted to do something for you. You see, I never had a child of my own, and I’ve loved you as if you were my son. When you were a little boy, though I knew it was wicked, I used to wish almost that you might be ill, so that I could nurse you day and night. But you were only ill once and then it was at school. I should so like to help you. It’s the only chance I shall ever have. And perhaps some day when you’re a great artist you won’t forget me, but you’ll remember that I gave you your start.’
‘It’s very good of you,’ said Philip. ‘I’m very grateful.’ A smile came into her tired eyes, a smile of pure happiness.
‘Oh, I’m so glad.’
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