Chapter VII　Change

MANYA had desired change and she was to get change. She was to travel. She heard of another pupil who lived in Warsaw, but who was on holiday in far away Belgium and Manya was to join her there. Manya became suddenly doubtful whether she liked so much change as that. She would have to travel alone and have five changes of train. She would surely get lost; or thieves might come into her compartment at night while she slept. But none of these things happened. She found herself safely met by her new employers and introduced to an entirely new world—a world of great wealth which she was expected to share and to enjoy. Her pupil's mother was beautiful and charming. For the first time in her life Manya was close to lovely dresses made by Worth's; she was expected to finger and admire soft furs and brilliant jewels; she saw people who were becoming her friends looking at her from the walls where their portraits hung painted by the greatest painters. She moved among all the loveliest things that wealth can give and looked on at all the charm of parties and balls, gaiety and music. Moreover these rich people were human and kind. Mrs. F— liked her, took her everywhere, called her to her friends “The exquisite Miss Sklodovska.”

We have not heard what Manya thought of it all, because something far more exciting was about to happen to her. On the hall table lay a letter with the Paris post mark addressed to Miss Sklodovska in Bronia's handwriting—a letter written on squared exercise book paper, written hurriedly between two lectures. What news! Bronia was going to be married! Bronia was inviting Manya to share her home in Paris as soon as she had it! Paris! ... A

University… All her hopes fulfilled?

It was not as simple as that. Manya had known for some time that Bronia was engaged to the cleverest, handsomest, most delightful Polish student in Paris. His name, like that of Manya'sown lover, was Casimir, Casimir Dluski. He had been obliged to flee from Poland because he was suspected of having been connected with a plot. In Paris he was watched by request of the Czar's police and had all kinds of odd information entered against him in the books of the Paris Gendarmerie. But, in spite of that, he was a gay young doctor and he was going to marry Bronia. So Bronia would never be able to return to Warsaw to take care of her father. That would be Manya's part, for Hela was not muda use for taking care of anybody.

How lovely, how wonderful, how ideal shone the future according to Bronia! But Manya wrote back: “I have been a fool, I am a fool, I shall always be a fool my whole life through, or rather to translate into more fashionable language: I never had any luck! I haven't any luck! I never shall have any luck!” Thereupon the unlucky may take heart as they consider what was to happen to Manya. She went on: “I have dreamed of Paris as one dreams of salvation, but hope of getting there fled a long time ago and now that the possibility of getting there has come to me, I don't know what to do. I can't talk to father about it, because I think his heart is set on our plan of living together next year and I would like to give him a little happiness in his old age. On the other hand, my heart breaks when I think of how my gifts are being wasted and yet gifts ought to be used.” It was that feeling that gifts ought to be used that made her urge Bronia in the same letter to put pride in her pocket and beg, with all her most ingratiating skill, a rich friend to help Joseph to use his gifts. Manya argued that it would not be only Joseph who would be helped, but the world which would profit by his skill. All through her life Manya was to keep the opinion that one of the noblest works is to help the greatly gifted to use their gifts for the world. She ended her letter: “My heart is so black, so sad that I feel how wrong I am to talk to you of all this and poison your happiness.”

So Manya went home to live for at least a year with her father in a little home of their own. To some people it would have seemed dull, but Manya had a brain and found more sensible talk in her father's house than in any other. She also returned to the strange “winged” secret society and talked and studied.

But Chance had a trick up her sleeve. No one would have suspected, if he walked in May down the quiet tree-planted avenue of Cracow and smelt the purple lilacs in the grass-grown court of No. 66, that there was anything surprising or world-shaking there. In the court, beside the lilacs, there was a little one-storied building with tiny windows. Museum of Industry and Agricul-ture was written in large letters over its doors. Were old ploughshares or prehistoric spades kept there? Not a bit of it! Russia allowed museums to exist. They are always such properly dead places. But any intelligent person can teach in a museum. Manya's cousin was the Director of this one and, secretly, he taught science in it. He had a laboratory where the students could actually touch apparatus.

For the first time in her life Manya Sklodovska entered a laboratory! And that was to make a remarkable difference to the great world. She couldn't go there much, only in the evenings and on Sunday. There was no one to teach her when she got there. She worked all alone trying to reproduce experiments described in text books. Her results were sometimes unexpected, but sometimes a tiny success filled her with hope and sometimes a striking failure filled her with despair. But always, she found discovery, or even trying to discover, a wild delight.

When late at night she got home and rolled into bed, something seized her, something grabbed her mind, something spoke to her in the dark. She couldn't sleep. It was as if another someone in herself was talking to her, hammering at her thoughts, telling her what she must get up and do. Her work had found her and was insisting that she must do it. Those test tubes and retorts of the museum were friends and allies of her father's old physical apparatus which she had once loved. Manya Sklodovska had found herself—that self whose clever hands must for ever handle tubes and flames, elements and metals, while her clever brain drew conclusions from what her hands did and looked into the future.

But what should she do? Hands and brain said go! Love said stay with her father and brother and sister, with her lover Casimir Z—, who was still trying to win his parents' consent to his marriage. Manya met him in the holidays. They walked the mountains together, he told her in long talks of his difficulties and asked her advice.

“If you can't find a way out yourself,” exclaimed Manya, at the end of her patience, “don't ask me.” She at least knew her own mind at last. She wrote hurriedly to Bronia: “Give me a definite answer. I won't be any trouble to you. You can put me to sleep anywhere. But, I implore you, answer frankly.

Bronia answered frankly; she would have telegraphed if telegrams had not been too dear. Manya would have caught the next train if she had not had so many arrangements to make. She put all her savings on the table and counted them with her father. He added what he could to them. There, before their eyes, lay the round roubles that made Paris possible, only just possible.

Manya could not afford to travel third all the way. In Poland and France third was the cheapest, but Germany had a fourth. It did not matter that the fourth was like a succession of luggage vans. They had no separate compartments and they were bare, except for a bench round the four sides, and thoughtful people took their own stools and sat in the middle. Manya would do that. She would have to take a lot of luggage to save buying in France, but the bulkiest she could send in advance by luggage train—her own mattress, her blankets, her sheets, her table napkins. The only thing she had to buy was a cheap, strong, wooden trunk which she marked proudly M.S. Into it she put her strong, durable clothes, her shoes, her two hats. Then she did up the packages she would take with her in the truck for the journey: food and drink for three days in the train, the stool, her books, a bag of caramels and a rug.

Manya was off to Paris. She was twenty-four and her eyes literally shone with eagerness and joy. The long-hoped-for adventure had begun.

第七章　变化

玛妮雅渴望变化，而且即将迎来变化。她将远行。听说华沙有位学生，不过目前正远在比利时度假，玛妮雅要去比利时与她会合。玛妮雅突然开始怀疑自己是不是能欣然接受这么大的生活变化。她要独自一人远行，换乘五趟火车。她肯定会走丢的；或者小偷会趁她睡觉的时候，在半夜偷偷潜进她的车厢。但这些情况一次也没发生。她安全到达目的地，见到自己的新雇主，来到一个崭新的世界——一个到处充斥着财富并且也能让她享受其中的世界。学生的妈妈长得美丽迷人。这是玛妮雅人生中第一次见到沃斯牌的漂亮裙子；她能亲手触摸到柔软的皮草，欣赏到闪耀的首饰；她身边交往到的朋友，他们的肖像就挂在墙上，而且往往是出自著名画家之手。她在财富营造出的美好事物间游走，欣赏着魅力四射的舞会派对，倾听音乐，享受快乐，而且这些富人平易近人。F夫人很喜欢玛妮雅，走到哪儿都带着她，并在朋友们面前称她为“精致可爱的斯克沃多夫斯卡小姐”。

我们无法得知玛妮雅本人对这一切的真实想法，因为她很快会遇到一件更令人兴奋的事。大厅的桌子上放着一封信，上面盖着巴黎的邮戳，写着斯克沃多夫斯卡小姐亲启，是布朗尼娅的笔迹——这是布朗尼娅在课间休息时急急忙忙用方格练习纸写的信。好消息！布朗尼娅要结婚了！她在信中说一旦在巴黎有了属于自己的家，就邀请玛妮雅过去同住！巴黎！……大学……她所有的梦都要实现了吗？

事情远没那么简单。此前，玛妮雅就知道布朗尼娅和一个在巴黎求学的波兰学生订婚了，男孩聪明帅气、性格开朗。他的名字和玛妮雅唯一的爱人一样，也叫卡西米尔，卡西米尔·杜鲁斯基。他不得已逃离波兰，因为涉嫌一起谋反案。在巴黎，他还是生活在俄国沙皇派来的警察的监视之下，巴黎宪兵队的名录上也记录着各种各样对他不利的信息。但尽管这样，他仍是一名年轻有为的医生，并且即将与布朗尼娅完婚。因此，布朗尼娅再也没机会回到华沙照顾父亲。照顾父亲的重任就落到了玛妮雅的肩上，因为海拉对照顾人也不在行。

只看布朗尼娅的描述，未来是多么美好，多么愉快，多么理想！但玛妮雅在回信中写道：“我一直以来就是个傻瓜，十足的大傻瓜，以后还会这样傻下去，或者用句当下流行的话语，我从未被命运眷顾过！” 因而不幸的事也许会接二连三垂青于她。她继续写道：“我渴望巴黎就像人类渴望救赎，但对巴黎的希望很久以前就破灭了，而当现在前往巴黎的机会再次降临时，我变得不知所措。我不能跟爸爸说这件事，我觉得他一心想着我们明年要在一起生活，我也想给他的晚年带来一些快乐。另一方面，每当想起白白浪费掉的才华，我的心都要碎了，才华就该物尽其用，充分发挥。”玛妮雅正是因为觉得才华要充分发挥，才在同一封信中催促布朗尼娅收起自己的骄傲，用尽一切逢迎的技巧，祈求一位富人朋友帮助约瑟夫发挥他的才能。玛妮雅写道不单单是约瑟夫自己能得到帮助，整个世界都会因他的才华而受益。玛妮雅终其一生都秉持一种观点：世界上最崇高的工作就是帮助极具天赋的人将他们的才华发挥得淋漓尽致。她在结尾写道：“我心情阴郁，我觉得自己不该跟你讲这些事，影响到你的幸福。”

于是，玛妮雅回到家，和爸爸在一间属于自家的小房子里共同生活了至少一年。对某些人来说这可能略显枯燥，但玛妮雅很聪明，她能在家中发现一些更加合理的讨论。她也重返了双翼学社这个秘密社团，进行学习交流。

但命运总深藏一些意料之外的事情。五月，走在克拉科夫幽静的绿荫大道上，闻着绿草如茵的66号庭院中那株紫色丁香花的香气，没有人能想到这儿会发生什么意想不到或震惊世界的大事。庭院里的丁香花旁，有一幢窗户狭小的小平房。门上写着几个大字：工农业博物馆。难道这里会收藏古老的犁头或史前的铲子？才不是！俄国人还是保留了博物馆。一直以来，博物馆都是沉寂、无人问津的地方。但任何有学问的人都可以在博物馆里教书。玛妮雅的表哥是这间博物馆的馆长，也在此秘密教授科学。他还有一间实验室，可以让学生们亲自动手做实验。

玛妮雅·斯克沃多夫斯卡生平第一次走进实验室！而这将对日后的世界产生巨大的影响。她不能经常去实验室，只在晚上和周末才有空。实验室里也没有老师指导。她独自一人尝试按照书本上的描述进行实验。实验结果有时无法预期，有时一点小小的成功会让她燃起希望，而有时一次意外失败又令她深感绝望，但不变的是她勇于探索、不断尝试探究未知奥妙的精神。

深夜回到家，玛妮雅缩进被子里，有些事紧紧萦绕着她，在她的脑海里挥之不去，在黑暗中向她喃喃诉说。她无法入睡，就好像身体里还藏着一个人在与自己对话，揣摩着自己的想法，并告诉自己该起床做些什么。工作自己找上门来，必须坚持做完。博物馆里的试管还有曲颈瓶和父亲之前收藏的物理仪器同属一类，玛妮雅甚是喜欢。玛妮雅·斯克沃多夫斯卡找到了自我——精巧的双手必须永远摆弄试管和火苗、元素和金属，聪明的大脑会从手里的工作中得出结论，还能洞察未来。

不过她该怎么办呢？双手和大脑都鼓励她继续前行！而亲情却提醒她要留下来陪伴父亲和兄弟姐妹，留下来陪伴爱人卡西米尔·Z先生，他还在努力争取赢得父母对两个人婚姻的许可。放假了，两个人终于能够碰面。他们一起上山，他滔滔不绝地讲述自己的痛苦处境，征求她的建议。

“如果你自己都想不出办法，”玛妮雅终于失去了耐心，吼道，“那也别来问我。”她至少最终还能明白自己真实的想法。她匆匆忙忙地给布朗尼娅写信，“给我个明确的答复。我不会给你添麻烦的。我睡在哪儿都行。但我祈求你真实地回答我。”

布朗尼娅做了诚挚的回答。如果电报不那么贵，她肯定就发电报了。玛妮雅如果没有那么多事情要安排，她肯定就搭最近的一班火车了。她把自己所有的积蓄摊在桌子上，和父亲一起清点。父亲也倾其所有，拿出了自己的积蓄。他们眼前摆在桌上的圆卢布，让去巴黎成为可能，但也仅仅只是可能。

就连一路都只坐三等车厢，玛妮雅也负担不起。在波兰和法国，三等车厢就是最便宜的，但德国还有四等车厢。四等车厢就像大型的行李车。中间光秃秃的，没有隔间，贴着四面车厢壁各放一个长条凳，细心的人自己会带小板凳坐在车厢中间。玛妮雅就可以这样做。她要带很多行李，以便在巴黎节省开支，但她能用行李车托运的最大物件便是床垫、毯子、床单和桌布。她唯一要买的就是一个廉价结实的大木箱，她在上面骄傲地写上了玛妮雅·斯克沃多夫斯卡的首字母“M.S.”。她在木箱里放了结实耐穿的衣服、鞋子和两顶帽子，随后又放了旅途中要随身带的东西：坐火车三天的吃食、板凳、书、一包焦糖和一条毯子。

玛妮雅动身前往巴黎。二十四岁的她，眼睛里闪烁着期待和愉悦的光芒。期待已久的旅程正式开始了。