第四十六章 伞下定情
第四十六章 伞下定情
劳里和艾美把家整理妥帖，计划着幸福的未来。夫妻俩在天鹅绒的地毯上悠闲地踱步。此时，巴尔先生和乔正享受着另一种情趣，他们漫步在泥泞的路上和湿透的田野里。
“我总是在傍晚时分散步，不知道为什么要放弃这个习惯，难道就因为常常碰上出来散步的教授吗？”两三次不期而遇后，乔自言自语地说。尽管通往美格家有两条路可走，但不管来来去去，走哪一条都会碰到他。他总是快步如飞，不到走得很近，似乎看不见她。他给人的感觉是，他的近视眼只有在那一刻才能认出这位走近的女士。而且，如果她是去美格家，他总是带了一些东西哄小孩；如果她是在回家，他则恰好刚看完河回来。希望他们没有腻烦他的频繁造访吧？
在这种情况下，乔除了礼貌地打招呼，邀请他进屋，还能有其他选择吗？哪怕是厌倦了他的拜访，她也滴水不漏地掩饰起了自己的疲惫，关照晚餐要有咖啡，“因为弗里德里克——我是说巴尔先生——不喜欢喝茶”。
到了第二个礼拜，每个人都对整个情况心知肚明了，然而大家都装着对乔脸色的变化全然不知。他们从来不问，她为什么工作中唱歌，为什么一天梳三次头，为什么傍晚的散步会让她脸色红润。父亲在跟巴尔教授谈论哲学的同时，也在给女儿上爱情课，关于这一点似乎没有人有丝毫的怀疑。
乔芳心有主，却方寸大乱，甚至不能维持正常的礼仪了。不过，她还是毅然决然要按捺住自己的感情，结果没有成功，便更加忐忑不安了。她曾多次激烈地宣言独立，所以极度害怕别人笑话自己被招安。她尤其害怕劳里，但是多亏那个新当家的，他的言行很恰当，难能可贵。他从不当众称巴尔先生“一等一的老家伙”，对乔今非昔比的外表也不以任何方式影射，看到教授的帽子几乎每天晚上都出现在马奇家的桌子上，也没有表示丝毫的惊讶。但他暗自欣喜若狂，渴望送礼时刻的到来，到时候可以送给乔一件金质餐具，上面铭刻着一头熊和一根破权杖，作为贴切的盾形纹章。
连续两个礼拜，教授像情郎似的有规律地来来回回。然后，接连三天不露面，连影子都不见。这使得每个人都严肃起来，乔先是变得深沉，后来——哎哟罗曼史！——常发脾气。
“讨厌我了，我敢说，突然回去了，就像来时那样。当然，没什么大不了的，但我觉得他应该像个绅士那样，来向我们道个别。”她神色绝望地瞧着大门，自言自语地说。这是一个阴沉沉的下午，她穿戴停当，准备例行散步。
“你还是带上小雨伞吧，乖乖，像是要下雨。”母亲注意到了她戴着新帽子，但没有点破。
“好的，妈咪，有东西要买吗？我得去镇上买点纸。”乔回答说。她站在镜子前面，拉出领子上的蝴蝶结，回避母亲对视的目光。
“有，我要买些斜纹里子布，一板九号针，二码淡紫色窄丝带。穿厚靴子了吗？有没有穿上保暖一点的衣服？”
“我想是的。”乔心不在焉地回答。
“要是碰到巴尔先生，请他来喝茶。我很想看到这位可爱的人呢。”马奇太太补充道。
乔听到了，但没有回答，只是亲吻一下母亲，便匆匆离开了。虽然她的心在作疼，但一股感激的暖流涌上心头：“她对我多好啊！那些没有母亲来帮助渡过难关的女孩子该怎么办哪？”
纺织品店和批发店与男士成堆的账房、银行不在一个区域，但乔一样差事还没办，却鬼使神差地出现在镇上的这个地段。她徘徊着，像是在等人。她带着与女人极不相符的兴趣，在这个橱窗看看工程器械，在那个窗口看看羊毛样品，不小心被几个桶绊了一跤，差点儿被落下来的货物埋进去。几个忙碌着的男人大手大脚地把她推开，脸上的表情似乎在奇怪：“见鬼，她怎么会到这里来？”一滴雨落在脸颊上，把她的思绪从受挫的希望带回到毁坏的丝带。雨点继续落下，身为情侣兼女人，她感到尽管挽救她那颗心已为时过晚，但她还可以挽救她的帽子。此刻，她记起了那把小雨伞，匆忙中她忘记带上了，世上没有后悔药，别无他法，只能去借一把，或者任由雨水淋湿全身。她抬眼望望昏沉沉的天空，低头看看深红色的蝴蝶结，上面已有斑斑黑点，朝前看是泥泞的街道，再往后恋恋不舍地看了很久，有一个破旧的商店，只见门上写着“霍夫曼·斯瓦茨公司”。她严厉地责备起自己来：“活该！我为什么要穿上最好的衣服，轻佻地来到这里，希望见到教授？乔，我为你感到羞耻！不，你不能到那里去借雨伞，也不能向他朋友打听他的下落。你应该走开，冒雨完成差事。如果得病死了，帽子淋坏了，那是你自找的。行啦，就这么着了！”
她想着想着就鲁莽地冲过街去，差点儿被一辆迎面驶来的马车轧死，突然又跟一个正儿八经的老先生撞个满怀。他嘴里说着：“对不起，小姐。”脸上的表情却是非常生气。乔有点沮丧，她调整了一下情绪，拿出手帕盖住那心爱的丝带，把诱惑抛在脑后，急忙赶路，她的脚踝越来越湿，头顶上是过往行人雨伞的碰撞声。突然，有一把破旧的蓝雨伞定格在她那没有保护的帽子上，引起她的注意，抬头一看，是巴尔先生正低头望着她。
“我觉得我认识这位意志坚强的女子，她居然这么勇敢地在许多马匹鼻子下穿行，这么快速地跋涉在泥泞路上。来这里干什么，我的朋友？”
“购物。”
巴尔先生笑了，眼睛从这边的泡菜坊，扫视到街对面的皮革制品批发商店。但他只是礼貌地说：“你没有雨伞。我可以送你一程，帮你拿东西吗？”
“可以，谢谢。”
乔的脸跟她的丝带一样红了。不知道他会怎么看待她，但她才不在乎呢。不一会儿，她已经和她的教授手挽手走着了。那感觉就像太阳忽然冲出乌云，光芒四射，世界又恢复了正常。一个极度幸福的女人，那一天就这样蹚着水走着。
“我们以为你离开了。”乔急忙说，她知道他在看着她。帽子不够大，遮不住她的脸。她害怕他会认为自己脸上显露出来的高兴神情不符合少女身份。
“你认为，我会跟那些对我那么亲善的人不告而别吗？”他带着责备的口气问，使得她感到好像自己诋毁了他。她热诚地回答说：
“不，我不认为。我知道你正忙着事情，但我们都很想念你——尤其是爸爸妈妈。”
“你呢？”
“见到你我总是很高兴，先生。”
她急切地要把自己的声音控制得相当平和，结果显得相当冷淡，末尾那个冷若冰霜的称呼似乎使教授寒心。他的笑容消失了，只听他严肃地说：
“我谢谢你，离开之前，我会再来一次。”
“这么说，你要走了？”
“这里我不会再有事了，办完了。”
“想必办得很成功吧？”乔问，对他那简短的回答失望痛苦。
“应该这么认为，我打开了路子，能为自己赚来面包，并且对我的Junglings[1]有很大帮助。”
“告诉我，求你啦！我想知道一切，有关——有关孩子们的。”乔急切地说。
“好心人，我很高兴告诉你。朋友帮我在一所学院里找了差事，可以像在自己国家一样教书，可以赚到足够的钱来为弗兰茨和埃米尔铺平道路。就这一点我就应该欣慰，是不是？”
“的确应该。做自己喜欢做的事，太棒了。我也可以经常看到你和孩子们！”乔高兴得叫了起来，她坚持用孩子们做借口来掩饰自己那种无法隐藏的满意神情。
“啊！恐怕我们不能经常见面，学校在西部。”
“那么远！”她放开手里拎着的裙子，听之任之，仿佛现在衣服会怎么样或者她自己会怎么样都已经无所谓了。
巴尔先生能读懂好几门语言，但他还没有学会读懂女人。他自诩很了解乔，因此他对乔的表现感到困惑，那天她的声音、脸部表情和举止相互矛盾，快速变换着，因为半个小时经历了五六种不同的心情。刚遇见他的时候，她显得惊讶，她说了来这儿的目的，但不可能不使人对她的这个目的产生怀疑。当他把胳膊伸出来让她挽着的时候，她的表情让他充满了喜悦。但是，当他问她是否想他时，她的回答又冷淡又古板，让他很失望。听到他的好运气时，她高兴得几乎要鼓掌。她纯粹是为孩子们高兴吗？然后，她听到他的目的地时，说了声“那么远！”她说话的口气是那么的绝望，把他送到了希望的顶峰。但是过了一会儿，她说了句话，像是全神贯注在差事上，又使他从顶峰上摔了下来：“我办差事的地方到了。愿意进去吗？时间不会长的。”
乔对自己的采购能力相当自豪，尤其希望给她的陪同留下干净利索完成差事的印象。但由于她心慌意乱，一切都乱了套。她打翻了盛着针的盘子，里子布剪下来后才想起来应该是斜纹的，零钱也给错了，还在棉布柜台找淡紫色丝带，真是焦头烂额。巴尔先生站在一旁，见她又是红脸又是犯错，看着看着，他的困惑似乎消退了。他开始明白，有时候，女人像做梦一样，要反过来看的。
他们出来的时候，他把那包东西夹在胳膊下，脸色愉快了。他踩着水坑走着，任凭污水飞溅，好像他还是很喜欢这样。
“如果今晚去你那个温馨的家作最后的拜访，我们是不是该给孩子来点你说的采购，来个告别晚宴？”他停在一个摆满水果鲜花的橱窗前问。
“买什么呢？”乔问道，没有去接他的前半个话题。他们走进商店，她装作很高兴的样子，闻着各种鲜花水果混合着的香味。
“他们可以吃橘子和无花果吗？”巴尔先生父亲似的问。
“拿到就吃。”
“你喜欢吃坚果吗？”
“像只松鼠。”
“汉堡葡萄。对了，我们吃着这些东西为祖国（德国）干杯，好不好？”
乔皱起了眉头，觉得那个太铺张了，问他何不买一篓枣子、一桶葡萄干和一袋杏仁来祝酒？巴尔先生随即拿下了她的钱包，掏出自己的钱包，买了几磅葡萄、一盆玫瑰红雏菊和一坛漂亮的蜂蜜。说它漂亮是因为那个广口瓶可爱。他把瓶瓶罐罐装在他的几个口袋里，撑得口袋走了形。他把花儿交给她拿着，自己打起那把旧雨伞，又继续前进了。
“马希小姐，我想请你帮个大忙。”涉水走了半个街区后，教授开口说道。
“说吧，先生。”乔的心猛烈地跳起来，她担心他会听见。
“尽管在下雨，我还是大胆提这个要求，留给我的时间不多了。”
“你说吧，先生。”乔紧张得突然一使劲，差点把手上的小花盆给捏碎了。
“想给我的蒂娜买件小连衣裙，我太笨了，自己买不好。你能给我参谋参谋款式，帮我挑好吗？”
“好的，先生。”乔感到自己仿佛步入了冰库，那颗心突然变得平静淡漠了。
“也许还要给蒂娜的母亲买条披肩。她那么穷，身体那么差，丈夫又那么令人操心。对，对，一条厚厚的保暖披肩对这个小母亲来说是再友好不过了。”
“我很乐意帮忙，巴尔先生。”接着，乔自言自语道，“我进展得太快，他分分秒秒变得越来越可爱了。”她带着精神上的震颤，热心地投入了这项工作，那样子看上去很可爱。
巴尔先生放手让她挑选，她给蒂娜选了一件漂亮的礼服，然后叫店员拿披肩。店员是个已婚的男士，态度谦恭，对他们挺感兴趣，认为他们是前来采购的夫妻。
“尊夫人可以选这条，质量很好，颜色很悦目，相当朴素高雅。”他说着抖开一条可心的灰色披肩，披在乔的肩上。
“你觉得合适吗，巴尔先生？”她问着把背转向他，庆幸这个能掩饰自己表情的机会。
“非常好，我们买。”教授回答说。付钱的时候他暗自笑了，而乔继续搜索柜台，像是个专找便宜货的人。
“现在我们该回家了吧？”他问，好像这几个词很让他高兴。
“是的，时间已晚，我也很累了。”乔的声音凄凉得自己都不知道，因为此刻太阳像突然出来那样地突然躲起来了，世界又恢复了泥泞和凄苦。她第一次发现自己的双脚冰冷，脑袋疼痛，而心则比脚更冷，比头更疼。巴尔先生要离开了，他只是把她当作一个朋友似的喜欢她，一切都是个误会，结束得越快越好。她一边这么想着，一边去招呼一辆驶近的公共马车，动作毛毛躁躁的，结果雏菊被甩出了花盆，掉在地上打烂了。
“这不是我们的车。”教授说着，挥挥手，让满载乘客的车子走了。他停下来捡起那些可怜的小花。
“请原谅，没看清楚车名。没关系，我可以步行。我习惯在泥泞的路上行走。”乔使劲眨着眼，宁死也不愿公开抹眼泪。
尽管她把脸转向别处，巴尔先生还是看到了她脸上的泪珠。这情景仿佛让他很感动，他突然弯下身子意味深长地问：“宝贝儿，为什么哭啦？”
要不是乔在这种事情上很嫩，她会说她没有哭，只是有点感冒，或者逢场作戏，随便撒点儿女人可撒的小谎。可是，她没这么说，还控制不住地抽泣起来，有失自尊地回答说：“因为你要离开了。”
“Ach, mein Gott[2]，太棒了！”巴尔先生叫着，费劲地鼓起掌来，因为手上有雨伞，胳膊下还夹着包包。“乔，我没有什么能给你，但我有很多的爱。我来这里就是要知道，你是不是在乎我的爱，我等待着有一天能确信我比朋友更进一步。现在等到了吧？你能在心里给老弗里茨留一个小小的位置吗？”他一口气说出了这一连串话。
“哦，当然能！”乔说。他太满足了，因为她双手抱住了他的胳膊，抬头望着他。脸上的表情明白地显示，人生有他的陪伴，她会是多么的幸福，哪怕没有比旧雨伞更好的庇护，只要有他举着。
这当然是困难条件下的求婚，因为满地泥浆，即使巴尔先生想跪下来求婚也不可能做到。因为两手都拿着东西，他也伸不出手来，除了象征性地伸手。更不能在大街上放纵温柔的表白，尽管他跃跃欲试。他狂喜之情的唯一表达方式就是看着她，那种表情使他容光焕发，以至于胡子上闪闪发亮的水珠居然看上去像小彩虹。如果他不是非常爱乔，他不可能有这种表情。她看上去根本谈不上可爱，裙子一塌糊涂，脚脖子以下的胶靴上溅满了泥水，帽子也淋坏了。好在巴尔先生认为她是世上最美的女人，而她也觉得他比任何时候都更像朱庇特，虽然他的帽边软软的，雨水从帽沟上滴下来，然后落到肩膀上（他把伞打在乔的头上），他手套上的每一个指头都需要缝补。
路人可能会认为，他们是一对不会伤人的疯子，因为他们完全忘记了喊一辆车子，悠闲地散着步，没在意渐浓的暮色和雨雾。不在乎人家会怎么想，因为他们在享受着幸福的时光，这种幸福很少见，一生只有一次。这种有魔力的时光会使人返老还童，变丑为美，以富易穷，让人心预先品尝一下天堂的滋味。教授的神情像是他已征服了一个王国，这个世界上他不再有更多的赐福了。乔紧跟在他身后，觉得自己的位置似乎一直在这里，不明白自己以前居然还会有其他的选择。当然，她首先开口说话——我的意思是能够清楚说话，继她脱口而出的“哦，当然能！”之后，她那些情话就不具有连贯性或者可转述性了。
“弗里德里希，为什么你不——? ”
“哦，天哪，自从米娜死后，没有人这样称呼我！”教授在一个水坑里停下来，看着她又感激又高兴地说。
“刚才我忘了，其实我总是在心里这样称呼你，如果你不喜欢，以后不会这样叫了。”
“喜欢？这样称呼我，我心里有说不出的甜蜜。你也可以称‘郎’，我想你们的语言和我们的语言几乎是一样美丽。”
“称‘郎’，不会有点太多情吧？”乔嘴上这么问，暗自却想这可是个可爱的字。
“多情？是的，感谢上帝，我们德国人信奉情意，它能让我们保持年轻。你们英语中的‘你’太冷漠了，称‘郎’吧，宝贝儿，它对我意味深长。”巴尔先生请求道，此刻他一点也不像庄重的教授，倒更像一个浪漫的学生。
“那好吧，郎为什么不早点告诉我这些？”乔含羞问道。
“现在我把心掏出来给妹，我高兴这样，因为妹从此以后就得照料它。瞧，这个，我的乔啊——可爱而有趣的名字——在纽约告别的那一天，我就想说些什么，但我想那个英俊的朋友和妹订婚了，所以没开口。如果那时我说了，妹会同意吗？”
“不知道，恐怕不会，那时候我根本没那个心。”
“不！这个我不相信。它一直在睡觉，直到白马王子穿过树林，把它唤醒。啊，好啦，‘Die erste Liebe ist die beste'[3]，但我不能有这个奢望。”
“是的，初恋是最美好的。你满足了吧，我从来没有恋爱过。特迪只是个男孩，很快就克服了对他的小幻想。”乔说。她急于纠正教授的错误。
“好极了！那就心满意足了，妹要保证给了我全部。我等了那么长的时间，变得自私了，妹会发现的，教授夫人。”
“我喜欢这个。”听到这个新的名字她高兴得叫起来，“现在告诉我，是什么把你带到这里，在我需要你的时候，你终于来了？”
“是这个。”巴尔先生从马甲背心口袋里掏出一张有点皱巴巴的纸。
乔打开那张纸，显得很窘迫。那是她给一家报社的诗稿之一，这个报社付稿费，所以她偶尔还投投稿。
“它怎么能把你带来？”她问道，不理解他的意思。
“我是偶然发现它的。我从诗中的人名和缩写字母的署名判断出来，诗中有一节似乎在召唤我。读吧，把他找到。我会看着不让你踩到水里。”
乔听从了，匆匆浏览着诗句，她取的题目是：
阁楼里
四只小箱排成行，
尘封无光，岁月苍苍，
很久以前成形，装满，
出自而今正值青春年华的孩子。
四把小钥匙并排挂着，
褪色的丝带，从前的雨天，
系上时华丽而鲜艳，
带着稚嫩的骄傲。
四个小名字，每个盖子一个，
是男孩的手刻出，
盖子下面藏着
这帮幸福人儿的历史。
曾经玩耍在这里，经常停住，
去倾听甜蜜的节奏，
它来自高高的屋顶，
淅沥而落的夏雨。
“美格”刻在首位，平滑又漂亮。
我用爱的眼睛往里瞧，
细心地折叠，众所周知，
颇丰的收集，优美地摆放，
平和安宁生活的档案——
给温柔女孩的礼物，
新娘的礼服，致妻子的诗，
袖珍的鞋，婴儿的鬈发。
没有玩具留在第一箱，
都取走了，
等岁月苍苍，又去加入
另一个小美格的游戏。
啊，幸福的母亲！我知晓
你听到了催眠曲，像甜蜜的副歌，
永远温柔而轻声，
淅沥而落的夏雨。
“乔”刻在第二位，潦草又破旧，
里面混杂而丰富，
无头娃娃，破教科书，
不再发声的鸟兽；
战利品来自童话仙境
仅由年轻的脚踩踏过。
未来的梦无从找到，
过去的回忆依旧美好；
半辍的诗，胡诌的故事，
四月的书信，知暖又知冷，
任性孩子的日记，
暗示着一个女人提前衰老；
女人在孤独的家里，
听着，像哀伤的副歌——
“值得爱，爱会来”，
淅沥而落的夏雨。
我的贝丝！刻着你名字的盖子，
始终在掸尘，
仿佛热泪滚滚的眼睛扫过，
仔细的纤手常常抹过。
死神为我们封了圣徒一位，
不在人间，位列仙境，
我们仍然如泣如诉，
将遗物供奉家庙——
银铃不常摇，
小帽临终戴，
漂亮的凯瑟琳
挂在门上方，为天使所负；
她那无哀诉的歌儿，
囚禁于痛苦中，
永远曼妙地混杂在
淅沥而落的夏雨。
最后一箱盖是贼亮的场地——
美丽传说成真
骁勇骑士的盾牌
刻着“艾美”的蓝色金字。
里面躺着她的束发网，
弃用的舞鞋，
枯花悉心藏，
不再劳累的扇子；
情人节花哨卡片，余炽尤烈，
事无巨细，每一件都曾分享，
女孩的希望、担心、娇羞，
记录下少女的心
如今学会了更美更真的魔法，
听着，如轻松的副歌，
那婚礼钟声银铃般交集，
淅沥而落的夏雨。
四只小箱排成行，
尘封无光，岁月苍苍，
四个妇人，转益祸福是我师
青春年华，去爱去劳动。
四个姐妹短暂离别，
无人迷途，只有一个先行。
爱的力量不朽，
使她们越发亲近。
啊，当我们的这些存储
展现在天父的眼前，
愿它们丰富在金色时光里
事迹因灵光而更美，
生命的华章经久奏响，
如激荡心灵的副歌，
灵魂高兴地翱翔歌唱
在雨后绵绵的艳阳天。
J.M.
“这首诗太烂了，但我是有感而发。那一天我很孤独，对着碎布袋痛哭了一场。绝没想到它还会出去讲故事。”乔说着把教授长时间珍藏的诗撕个粉碎。
“让它去吧，它已尽了义务。在我读完记着她小秘密的褐色笔记本时，我会有她的新作的。”巴尔先生自语道，微笑地看着碎片随风飘落。“是的，”他诚挚地补充道，“我读过它，心里想，她有痛苦，她很孤独，她会在真爱中找到安慰。我心中充满了爱，充满了对她的爱。难道我不应该去表白：‘如果这份爱不是太卑微的话，看在上帝的分上接受它吧，换取我所希望得到的。'”
“所以你来了，发现你的这份爱不是太卑微，而是我所需要的宝贵东西。”乔低声说。
“起先我没勇气这么想，尽管你非常友好地欢迎我。但不久我开始希望了，于是对自己说：‘哪怕付出生命我也要得到她。’我会得到的！”巴尔先生大声地说，蔑视一切地点点头，仿佛笼罩着他们的雾墙是他要战胜的，或者要勇敢地去摧毁的障碍物。
乔心想，那太棒了，她决心要无愧于她的骑士，尽管他没有昂首挺胸地鞭策战马盛装前来。
“是什么原因让你保持距离这么久的？”不一会儿她又问。提这些私密问题，得到的回答总是让人欣喜不已。她太高兴了，所以保持不了沉默。
“很不容易，我没勇气把你从那个幸福的家里带走，而要等到能给你一个美好的前景时，也许要经过很长时间，努力工作以后才能实现。我怎么能要求你为了一个穷酸的老家伙放弃那么多呢？我没有任何财产，只有一点点学问。”
“我很高兴你穷。我不能忍受阔丈夫。”乔斩钉截铁地说。接着用更温柔的语调说：“别担心贫穷。我过惯了贫穷生活，所以不怕贫穷。为我所爱的人工作是一种幸福。别说你自己老——四十正值生命的最好年华。即使你是七十岁，我也会禁不住爱上你的！”
教授感动得热泪盈眶，要是他能伸手去拿手帕，他会很高兴的。因为他不能，所以乔帮他擦去了眼泪，从他手里拿走一两包东西，笑着说：
“我可能固执己见，但没有人可以说我超出了能力范围，因为女人的特殊使命是擦干眼泪和承担重负。我要去承担我的那份重负，弗里德里希，帮助你赚钱养家。这一点你要拿定主意，否则我绝不去。”她坚决地补充道，此时他在试图拿回他的负担。
“到时候再看。你有耐心长时间等待吗，乔？我必须离开，一个人去干我的工作。我必须首先扶助外甥们，因为，即使是为了你，我也不能对米娜食言。你能理解吗？你能乐意我们希望着、等待着吗？”
“是的，我能，因为我们彼此相爱，这就足以使一切变得容易忍受。我也有我的义务，我的工作。如果忽视了它们，即使是为了你，我不会过得快活。因此，没必要匆忙或者不耐烦。你可以在西部干你的那份工作，我可以在这里干我的，两个人都幸福地从好处着想，把未来交给上帝来安排。”
“啊！妹给了我如此大的希望和勇气，我无以回报，只有一颗爱心和一双空空的手。”教授感动得无法自持。
乔永远永远学不会矜持。他们站在台阶上，听他说着说着，她就把双手放进他的手里，温柔地耳语道：“现在不是空空的了。”她弯下身子，在雨伞下亲吻了她的弗里德里希。太惊心动魄了，但她会干的，哪怕树篱上那群尾巴湿透的麻雀是人群，因为她真的神游得很远了，全然忽视了世界的存在，只有她自己的幸福。虽然在如此简单的外衣下来临，但这是他俩生命中的尖峰时刻，把黑夜、风暴和孤独变成了家里的灯光，温暖和安宁在等待着迎接他们。“欢迎回家！”乔高兴地说着，把爱人领回家，并关上了门。
* * *
[1]德语，孩子们。
[2]德语，天哪。
[3]德语：初恋最美好。
CHAPTER 46 UNDER THE UMBRELLA
CHAPTER 46 UNDER THE UMBRELLA
WHILE LAURIE and Amy were taking conjugal strolls over velvet carpets, as they set their house in order, and planned a blissful future, Mr. Bhaer and Jo were enjoying promenades of a different sort, along muddy roads and sodden fields.
“I always do take a walk toward evening, and I don't know why I should give it up, just because I happen to meet the Professor on his way out, ” said Jo to herself, after two or three encounters, for though there were two paths to Meg's whichever one she took she was sure to meet him, either going or returning. He was always walking rapidly, and never seemed to see her until quite close, when he would look as if his shortsighted eyes had failed to recognize the approaching lady till that moment. Then, if she was going to Meg's he always had something for the babies; if her face was turned homeward, he had merely strolled down to see the river, and was just returning, unless they were tired of his frequent calls.
Under the circumstances, what could Jo do but greet him civilly, and invite him in? If she was tired of his visits, she concealed her weariness with perfect skill, and took care that there should be coffee for supper, “as Friedrich—I mean Mr. Bhaer—doesn't like tea.”
By the second week, everyone knew perfectly well what was going on, yet everyone tried to look as if they were stone-blind to the changes in Jo's face. They never asked why she sang about her work, did up her hair three times a day, and got so blooming with her evening exercise; and no one seemed to have the slightest suspicion that Professor Bhaer, while talking philosophy with the father, was giving the daughter lessons in love.
Jo couldn't even lose her heart in a decorous manner, but sternly tried to quench her feelings; and, failing to do so, led a somewhat agitated life. She was mortally afraid of being laughed at for surrendering, after her many and vehement declarations of independence. Laurie was her especial dread; but thanks to the new manager, he behaved with praiseworthy propriety, never called Mr. Bhaer “a capital old fellow” in public, never alluded, in the remotest manner, to Jo's improved appearance, or expressed the least surprise at seeing the Professor's hat on the Marches' hall table nearly every evening. But he exulted in private and longed for the time to come when he could give Jo a piece of plate, with a bear and a ragged staff on it as an appropriate coat of arms.
For a fortnight, the Professor came and went with lover-like regularity;then he stayed away for three whole days, and made no sign, a proceeding which caused everybody to look sober, and Jo to become pensive, at first, and then—alas for romance! —very cross.
“Disgusted, I dare say, and gone home as suddenly as he came. It's nothing to me,of course;but I should think he would have come and bid us good-by like a gentleman, ” she said to herself, with a despairing look at the gate, as she put on her things for the customary walk one dull afternoon.
“You'd better take the little umbrella, dear. It looks like rain, ” said her mother, observing that she had on her new bonnet, but not alluding to the fact.
“Yes, Marmee, do you want anything in town? I've got to run in and get some paper, ” returned Jo, pulling out the bow under her chin before the glass as an excuse for not looking at her mother.
“Yes, I want some twilled silesia, a paper of number nine needles, and two yards of narrow lavender ribbon. Have you got your thick boots on, and something warm under your cloak? ”
“I believe so, ” answered Jo absently.
“If you happen to meet Mr. Bhaer, bring him home to tea. I quite long to see the dear man, ” added Mrs. March.
Jo heard that,but made no answer,except to kiss her mother,and walk rapidly away, thinking with a glow of gratitude, in spite of her heartache,“How good she is to me!What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles? ”
The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses, banks, and wholesale warerooms, where gentlemen most do congregate;but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did a single errand, loitering along as if waiting for someone, examining engineering instruments in one window and samples of wool in another, with most unfeminine interest; tumbling over barrels, being half-smothered by descending bales, and hustled unceremoniously by busy men who looked as if they wondered “how the deuce she got there.” A drop of rain on her cheek recalled her thoughts from baffled hopes to ruined ribbons; for the drops continued to fall, and being a woman as well as a lover, she felt that, though it was too late to save her heart, she might her bonnet. Now she remembered the little umbrella, which she had forgotten to take in her hurry to be off, but regret was unavailing, and nothing could be done but borrow one or submit to a drenching. She looked up at the lowering sky, down at the crimson bow already flecked with black, forward along the muddy street, then one long, lingering look behind, at a certain grimy warehouse, with “Hoffmann, Swartz, & Co.” over the door, and said to herself, with a sternly reproachful air—
“It serves me right! what business had I to put on all my best things and come philandering down here, hoping to see the Professor? Jo, I'm ashamed of you! No, you shall not go there to borrow an umbrella, or find out where he is, from his friends. You shall trudge away, and do your errands in the rain, and if you catch your death and ruin your bonnet, it's no more than you deserve. Now then! ”
With that she rushed across the street so impetuously that she narrowly escaped annihilation from a passing truck, and precipitated herself into the arms of a stately old gentleman, who said, “I beg pardon, ma'am, ” and looked mortally offended. Somewhat daunted, Jo righted herself, spread her handkerchief over the devoted ribbons, and putting temptation behind her, hurried on, with increasing dampness about the ankles, and much clashing of umbrellas overhead. The fact that a somewhat dilapidated blue one remained stationary above the unprotected bonnet attracted her attention, and looking up, she saw Mr. Bhaer looking down.
“I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravely under many horse noses, and so fast through much mud. What do you down here, my friend? ”
“I'm shopping.”
Mr. Bhaer smiled, as he glanced from the pickle factory on one side to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other, but he only said politely, “You haf no umbrella. May I go also, and take for you the bundles? ”
“Yes, thank you.”
Jo's cheeks were as red as her ribbon, and she wondered what he thought of her, but she didn't care, for in a minute she found herself walking away arm in arm with her Professor, feeling as if the sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon brilliancy, that the world was all right again, and that one thoroughly happy woman was paddling through the wet that day.
“We thought you had gone, ” said Jo hastily, for she knew he was looking at her. Her bonnet wasn't big enough to hide her face, and she feared he might think the joy it betrayed unmaidenly.
“Did you believe that I should go with no farewell to those who haf been so heavenly kind to me? ” he asked so reproachfully that she felt as if she had insulted him by the suggestion, and answered heartily—
“No, I didn't. I knew you were busy about your own affairs, but we rather missed you—Father and Mother especially.”
“And you? ”
“I'm always glad to see you, sir.”
In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rather cool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chill the Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely—
“I thank you, and come one more time before I go.”
“You are going,then? ”
“I haf no longer any business here, it is done.”
“Successfully, I hope? ” said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointment was in that short reply of his.
“I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by which I can make my bread and gif my Jünglings much help.”
“Tell me, please! I like to know all about the—the boys, ” said Jo eagerly.
“That is so kind, I gladly tell you. My friends find for me a place in a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enough to make the way smooth for Franz and Emil. For this I should be grateful, should I not? ”
“Indeed you should. How splendid it will be to have you doing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys! ” cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfaction she could not help betraying.
“Ah! But we shall not meet often, I fear, this place is at the West.”
“So far away! ” And Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself.
Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight; but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly, formal reply that despair fell upon him. On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands. Was the joy all for the boys? Then on hearing his destination, she said, “So far away! ” in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle of hope, but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely absorbed in the matter—
“Here's the place for my errands. Will you come in? It won't take long.”
Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and dispatch with which she would accomplish the business. But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss; she upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be “twilled” till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder, and as he watched, his own bewilderment seemed to subside, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries.
When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm with a more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles as if he rather enjoyed it on the whole.
“Should we no do a little what you call shopping for the babies, and haf a farewell feast tonight if I go for my last call at your so pleasant home? ” he asked, stopping before a window full of fruit and flowers.
“What will we buy? ” asked Jo, ignoring the latter part of his speech, and sniffing the mingled odors with an affectation of delight as they went in.
“May they haf oranges and figs? ” asked Mr. Bhaer, with a paternal air.
“They eat them when they can get them.”
“Do you care for nuts? ”
“Like a squirrel.”
“Hamburg grapes; yes, we shall drink to the Fatherland in those? ”
Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked why he didn't buy a frail of dates, a cask of raisins, and a bag of almonds, and done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated her purse, produced his own, and finished the marketing by buying several pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy daisies, and a pretty jar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Then, distorting his pockets with knobby bundles, and giving her the flowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they traveled on again.
“Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you, ” began the Professor, after a moist promenade of half a block.
“Yes, sir? ” And Jo's heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.
“I am bold to say it in spite of the rain, because so short a time remains to me.”
“Yes, sir.” And Jo nearly crushed the small flowerpot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.
“I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly gif me a word of taste and help? ”
“Yes, sir.” And Jo felt as calm and cool all of a sudden as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.
“Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick, and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawl would be a friendly thing to take the little mother.”
“I'll do it with pleasure, Mr. Bhaer. I'm going very fast, and he's getting dearer every minute, ” added Jo to herself, then with a mental shake she entered into the business with an energy that was pleasant to behold.
Mr. Bhaer left it all to her, so she chose a pretty gown for Tina, and then ordered out the shawls. The clerk, being a married man, condescended to take an interest in the couple, who appeared to be shopping for their family.
“Your lady may prefer this. It's a superior article, a most desirable color, quite chaste and genteel, ” he said, shaking out a comfortable gray shawl, and throwing it over Jo's shoulders.
“Does this suit you, Mr. Bhaer? ” she asked, turning her back to him, and feeling deeply grateful for the chance of hiding her face.
“Excellently well, we will haf it, ” answered the Professor, smiling to himself as he paid for it, while Jo continued to rummage the counters like a confirmed bargain-hunter.
“Now shall we go home? ” he asked, as if the words were very pleasant to him.
“Yes, it's late, and I'm so tired.” Jo's voice was more pathetic than she knew. For now the sun seemed to have gone in as suddenly as it came out, and the world grew muddy and miserable again, and for the first time she discovered that her feet were cold, her head ached, and that her heart was colder than the former, fuller of pain than the latter. Mr. Bhaer was going away, he only cared for her as a friend, it was all a mistake, and the sooner it was over the better. With this idea in her head, she hailed an approaching omnibus with such a hasty gesture that the daisies flew out of the pot and were badly damaged.
“This is not our omniboos, ” said the Professor, waving the loaded vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor little flowers.
“I beg your pardon. I didn't see the name distinctly. Never mind, I can walk. I'm used to plodding in the mud, ” returned Jo, winking hard, because she would have died rather than openly wipe her eyes.
Mr. Bhaer saw the drops on her cheeks, though she turned her head away. The sight seemed to touch him very much, for suddenly stooping down, he asked in a tone that meant a great deal, “Heart's dearest, why do you cry? ”
Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she would have said she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or told any other feminine fib proper to the occasion. Instead of which that undignified creature answered, with an irrepressible sob, “Because you are going away.”
“Ach,mein Gott,that is so goot! ”cried Mr.Bhaer,managing to clasp his hands in spite of the umbrella and the bundles. “Jo, I haf nothing but much love to gif you; I came to see if you could care for it, and I waited to be sure that I was something more than a friend. Am I? Can you make a little place in your heart for old Fritz? ” he added, all in one breath.
“Oh, yes! ” said Jo; and he was quite satisfied, for she folded both hands over his arm, and looked up at him with an expression that plainly showed how happy she would be to walk through life beside him, even though she had no better shelter than the old umbrella, if he carried it.
It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for even if he had desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon his knees, on account of the mud; neither could he offer Jo his hand, except figuratively, for both were full; much less could he indulge in tender demonstrations in the open street, though he was near it; so the only way in which he could express his rapture was to look at her, with an expression which glorified his face to such a degree that there actually seemed to be little rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his beard. If he had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have done it then,for she looked far from lovely,with her skirts in a deplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, and her bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her the most beautiful woman living, and she found him more “Jove-like” than ever, though his hatbrim was quite limp with the little rills trickling thence upon his shoulders (for he held the umbrella all over Jo), and every finger of his gloves needed mending.
Passers-by probably thought them a pair of harmless lunatics, for they entirely forgot to hail a bus, and strolled leisurely along, oblivious of deepening dusk and fog. Little they cared what anybody thought, for they were enjoying the happy hour that seldom comes but once in any life, the magical moment which bestows youth on the old, beauty on the plain, wealth on the poor, and gives human hearts a foretaste of heaven. The Professor looked as if he had conquered a kingdom, and the world had nothing more to offer him in the way of bliss; while Jo trudged beside him, feeling as if her place had always been there, and wondering how she ever could have chosen any other lot. Of course, she was the first to speak—intelligibly, I mean, for the emotional remarks which followed her impetuous “Oh, yes! ” were not of a coherent or reportable character.
“Friedrich, why didn't you—”
“Ah, heaven, she gifs me the name that no one speaks since Minna died! ” cried the Professor, pausing in a puddle to regard her with grateful delight.
“I always call you so to myself—I forgot; but I won't unless you like it.”
“Like it? It is more sweet to me than I can tell. Say ‘thou', also, and I shall say your language is almost as beautiful as mine.”
“Isn't ‘thou' a little sentimental? ” asked Jo, privately thinking it a lovely monosyllable.
“Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment, and keep ourselves young mit it. Your English ‘you' is so cold, say ‘thou', heart's dearest, it means so much to me, ” pleaded Mr. Bhaer, more like a romantic student than a grave professor.
“Well, then, why didn't thou tell me all this sooner? ” asked Jo bashfully.
“Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter. See, then, my Jo—ah, the dear, funny little name—I had a wish to tell something the day I said goodbye in New York, but I thought the handsome friend was betrothed to thee, and so I spoke not.Wouldst thou have said‘Yes',then,if I had spoken? ”
“I don't know. I'm afraid not, for I didn't have any heart just then.”
“Prut! That I do not believe. It was asleep till the fairy prince came through the wood,and waked it up.Ah,well,‘Die erste Liebe ist die beste, ' but that I should not expect.”
“Yes, the first love is the best, but be so contented, for I never had another. Teddy was only a boy, and soon got over his little fancy, ” said Jo, anxious to correct the Professor's mistake.
“Good! Then I shall rest happy, and be sure that thou givest me all. I haf waited so long, I am grown selfish, as thou wilt find, Professorin.”
“I like that, ” cried Jo, delighted with her new name. “Now tell me what brought you, at last, just when I wanted you? ”
“This.” And Mr. Bhaer took a little worn paper out of his waistcoat pocket.
Jo unfolded it, and looked much abashed, for it was one of her own contributions to a paper that paid for poetry, which accounted for her sending it an occasional attempt.
“How could that bring you? ” she asked, wondering what he meant.
“I found it by chance; I knew it by the names and the initials, and in it there was one little verse that seemed to call me. Read and find him. I will see that you go not in the wet.”
Jo obeyed, and hastily skimmed through the lines which she had christened—
IN THE GARRET
Four little chests all in a row,
Dim with dust, and worn by time,
All fashioned and filled, long ago,
By children now in their prime.
Four little keys hung side by side,
With faded ribbons, brave and gay
When fastened there, with childish pride,
Long ago, on a rainy day.
Four little names, one on each lid,
Carved out by a boyish hand,
And underneath there lieth hid
Histories of the happy band
Once playing here, and pausing oft
To hear the sweet refrain,
That came and went on the roof aloft,
In the falling summer rain.
“Meg” on the first lid, smooth and fair.
I look in with loving eyes,
For folded here, with well-known care,
A goodly gathering lies,
The record of a peaceful life—
Gifts to gentle child and girl,
A bridal gown, lines to a wife,
A tiny shoe, a baby curl.
No toys in this first chest remain,
For all are carried away,
In their old age, to join again
In another small Meg's play.
Ah, happy mother! well I know
You hear, like a sweet refrain,
Lullabies ever soft and low
In the falling summer rain.
“Jo” on the next lid, scratched and worn,
And within a motley store
Of headless dolls, of schoolbooks torn,
Birds and beasts that speak no more;
Spoils brought home from the fairy ground
Only trod by youthful feet,
Dreams of a future never found,
Memories of a past still sweet;
Half-writ poems, stories wild,
April letters, warm and cold,
Diaries of a wilful child,
Hints of a woman early old;
A woman in a lonely home,
Hearing, like a sad refrain—
“Be worthy, love, and love will come, ”
In the falling summer rain.
My Beth! the dust is always swept
From the lid that bears your name,
As if by loving eyes that wept,
By careful hands that often came.
Death canonized for us one s
