03-02-03-勃朗特一家的故事 [8]
想：“这也许是件好事，一件妙事。我的女儿们将开办一所好学校，霍沃斯也将因此而出名。我希望布兰韦尔的生活成功，那样我妻子玛丽亚会为我们都感到高兴的。”
■ 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
■ 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