Chapter 3 Chapter 3 Mature

1 After my father died, life changed completely.I stepped out of the peaceful, carefree kingdom of childhood and stepped into the real world.There is no doubt that a man brings stability to a family.Father - the cornerstone of family life.My father likes to eat on time, and he doesn't want to be disturbed after dinner, and he is happy to play with others.These are all accepted by people naturally.My father is our guarantee of food and clothing. He takes care of the housework and keeps it in order. My father also gives me music theory lessons. Maggie married James Watts about nine months after their father died.She was reluctant to leave her mother.Mother was eager to end the marriage and did not want them to procrastinate any longer.I vividly remember her saying that mother and daughter would become more and more inseparable as time went on.James' father was also eager to get him married sooner.James is soon to graduate from Oxford and go straight into business.He longs to marry Maggie and start a small family of his own.Mr. Watts planned to build a house for his son on his property, where the young couple could live, and that was it.

Mr. Auguste Montant, my father's executor in America, came to stay with me for a week from New York.He was a big man, affable and very likable.No one was more considerate of his mother than he was.He told his mother frankly that his father's business was terrible, and that the lawyers and people who pretended to be good for him had given him many bad ideas.A lot of money is spent on compensating loss-making businesses and repairing real estate in New York, but it doesn't solve practical problems at all.He proposed to give up most of the real estate to avoid onerous taxes, and there may not be much income left.The vast legacy that my grandfather once left has been wiped out.Grandfather used to be a partner in Claflin's company, and the company was willing to continue to provide dividends to the partner's widow, and also regularly provided a small pension to the mother.According to my grandfather's will, our three children were each given £100 a year in cash.A large amount of dollars has been invested in the real estate industry, and these properties are now in decline, either forgotten and unowned, or sold at extremely low prices.

The question then was whether the mother could afford to live in Ashfield.I think my mother's decision is practical.She decided it was unwise for us to continue living there.The house will still need repairs in the future.It is very difficult, though possible, to maintain the status quo with our income.It would be best to sell the existing Kew house and buy a smaller house somewhere in Devonshire, probably near Exeter.This will reduce expenses, and the difference between buying and selling the house can also be regarded as an income.Although my mother has no professional training and is not good at doing business, she does not lack business knowledge.

However, her proposition met with opposition from her sons and daughters.Maggie, my brother and I strongly opposed the sale of Ashfield Hall and begged her to keep it.Monty was writing from India on purpose.We said Ashfield was our home and we couldn't bear to sell it.The brother-in-law promised that he could send a small sum of money to his mother as a subsidy for a long time.He and Maggie come to Ashfield in the summer to help cover some expenses.Mother was finally moved by our nostalgia for Ashfield and gave up her claim.She said that she would try her best to keep the mansion no matter what.

In this way, Ashfield is still our home, and it will always be so sacred in our hearts.Ashfield has meant a lot to me over the years.It is a portrayal of my life, my home, and my destination. Father passed away in September.In July of the following year, my sister got married.Since it was during the period of father's funeral, the wedding was very deserted and no grand wedding banquet was held.The wedding was well arranged and the ceremony took place in the old Torquay Church.It was a great honor for me to be a bridesmaid for the first time in my life, and all the bridesmaids were dressed in white dresses and crowns of snow-white flowers.The wedding was scheduled to begin at ten o'clock in the morning, after a feast at Ashfield Hall.The bride and groom happily received many wedding gifts for their congratulations.

Maggie's departure can be said to mark the beginning of the second phase of my life. I am still a child, but I have already left the first stage of childhood.By turns elation, sadness, despair, self-importance; these traits, manifested in everyday life, are the hallmarks of childhood.Along with these traits disappears a sense of security and a sense of innocence about future life.We are no longer the Miller family.Now only mother and daughter are left to depend on each other: one is a middle-aged woman, and the other is an innocent little girl who has never been in the world.Everything seems to be the same as before, but the atmosphere of the family is completely different.

Since her father's death, her mother's heart attack has recurred many times, and the attack is very serious, and the medicine prescribed by the doctor is of no avail.For the first time in my life, I experienced the feeling of worrying about other people. I was still a child, and I naturally took things more seriously.I used to wake up in the middle of the night with my heart pounding, convinced that my mother was dead.Twelve and thirteen-year-olds are the age when they are prone to worry.I knew it was absurd, but I couldn't help exaggerating these feelings.I turned over and got out of bed, tiptoed across the corridor, came outside the mother's bedroom, knelt in front of the door, put my ear on the door hinge, and listened attentively to whether there was breathing in the mother's bedroom.Most of the time, I'm quick to be comforted - a warm snoring is my reward.All these countless worries, I never told my mother, and I don't think she could have expected it.Also, when she went out into the street, I felt bouts of dread that she might be run over by a car.Now that I think about it, it's really absurd and worrying.These emotions entangled me for about a year or two, and then gradually disappeared.I later moved into my father's living room, which was next door to my mother's bedroom, with the door ajar.That way, if Mother had a night's illness, I could go right in, prop Mother's head up, and deliver her brandy and bicarbonate.

When I felt myself right next to her, I was no longer tormented by excruciating worries—the exaggerated fears were diminished.I found myself carrying the burden of my imagination all my life.While it has served me well—imagination is, indeed, a special skill necessary for novelists—it haunts you nasty in other ways. After the death of my father, the living standard of the family dropped sharply, and social activities almost completely ceased. Except for visiting a few old friends, my mother stopped communicating with anyone.We were hard-pressed and had to be frugal in every way, and that was all we could do to keep Ashfield.Luncheons and dinners are no longer held at home.The servants around her were reduced from three to two.

Our own diet is no longer the usual three- or four-course family dinner.Dinner was cancelled, and my mother and I ate mac and cheese in the evening, or something like a rice pudding.I think Jane must have been greatly distressed by this. Mother also gradually took over the job of ordering food from Jane. 2 One day in about March, the mother said that Maggie was going to have a baby. "Maggie is going to have a baby?" I was dumbfounded.I don't know why this came as a surprise to me - this sort of thing happens all around me. I once accepted the fact that James is my brother-in-law, and I affectionately call him Jimmy on weekdays, and I like him very much.But this new fact is quite another matter.

I am very happy to have a nephew.Later, Maggie took him to live in Ashfield for a month.He was baptized in the old Torquay Church when he was two months old.Since his godmother, Nora High, was unable to come, I was entrusted to hold the little nephew on her behalf.I stood in the front row with a solemn expression. My sister hung her hands under my arms in fear, and I dropped the child to the ground. He took the name James Watts, after his father and grandfather.The family calls him Jack.He was sleeping most of the time, so I couldn't wait for him to grow up and play with me in no time.

I was so glad Maggie came home to wish me good luck and pestered her to tell me stories.She can add a lot of joy to my life.The first time I heard the story of Sherlock Holmes was told to me by Maggie, the name is "Blue Ruby".Since then, I have always begged her to tell me some more stories. "Blue Ruby", "The League of Red Heads", and "Five Orange Seeds" are all my favorites.I like to listen to the story told by her, she tells the story vividly. Maggie wrote short stories before she got married.He has published many articles in the literary magazine "Fame and Fortune".At that time, those who could publish their works in the fiction column of "Vanity Magazine" were recognized as having literary accomplishments.The father is very proud of having such a daughter.She wrote a series of short stories on sports - "The Sixth Extra Goal", "Friction on the Green Field", "Katie Plays Cricket" and many more.After more than twenty years, I reread these novels and still think they are wonderfully written.Had she not been married, she might have continued to write. She never seriously considered becoming a writer, perhaps preferring to be a painter.She was one of those talented people who could do almost anything they wanted to do.As far as I know, she stopped writing novels after her marriage, but after ten or fifteen years she started writing plays.She wrote The Creditors, which was directed by Basil Dene and starred Leon Quartermine and Fay Compton at the Theater Royal.In addition, a play or two were written, but they were not performed in London.She is also an excellent amateur actress, having participated in the Manchester Amateur Theatre.Maggie is the recognized talent in our family. I had no ambitions at the time, and I knew I lacked talent.I used to enjoy playing tennis and cricket, but I was never good at it.It would be funny if I said that I wanted to be a writer since I was a child and believed that one day my dream would come true, but to be honest, no such dream has ever crossed my mind.I also published my works when I was eleven years old.Here's the thing.A tram appeared in Ealing, and there was an instant uproar.This is a terrible thing for Ealing.Such a quiet residential area, wide streets, and beautiful houses are now ruined by this jingling tram.Some people say that this is progress, and they are immediately booed by people.Tramways are not advanced. They are very noisy and endanger the health of the public.The city already had two important bus routes from Ealing Street to Sherfield Ring and from Hanwell to Acton.Those vermilion buses painted Ealing were perfectly adequate for passenger work, and Ealing had the old Great Western and Regional Railways. There is no need to add a tram, but it has appeared, and it has appeared mercilessly in the city of Ealing. Some people weep sadly, and some people gnash their teeth.On the very first day that the tram started running, a poem I wrote was published, consisting of four stanzas.My aunt begged an old gentleman who was a frequent guest at her house to go to the newspaper office and recommend the poem to the editor.I was elated when I read that poem of mine in the newspaper.But it didn't make me think about whether to pursue literature in the future. There was only one thing on my mind--to have a happy marriage. I believe in it as much as my friends do.We realize that happiness is at hand, we long for love, we want to be cared for and cared for, we want to be respected, we want to get what we want, and at the same time, we put our husband's life, career and success as our proud duty in life. the first place.We don't need any stimulants or sedatives, life gives us faith and joy.Although we may experience occasional disappointments—momentary misfortunes—there is a general view of life.Lots of fun.Perhaps for today's girls, life is also full of fun, but they don't seem to be happy.It occurred to me that they might take pleasure in melancholy, that some people are of the type who seem to prefer those emotional crises that make them succumb forever.They even love anxiety, the kind of anxiety that only us older generations have.Back then, our generation often encountered family decline, and it was difficult to meet even a quarter of our expectations.So why can we love life so much?Could it be that within us there is a life force that no longer arises now?We are like flowers with strong vitality—and often weeds, but nevertheless we have deep roots and leaves—struggling through the cracks between paving stones and flagstones, rooted in barren land, determined to spread life. The joy of living, growing in the sun, until someone comes and steps on us.Even if we are temporarily devastated, we will soon be able to hold our heads high again. What really makes a young girl-the future wife eager to try is the life that resembles a wonderful adventure.You never know what's going to happen to you, and that's what excites women.Don't worry about the future—biology will decide.You are looking forward to that man, once he appears in front of you, will completely change your life.At the crossroads of life, you can express your feelings, which is exciting. "I want to marry a diplomat, I want to go abroad, to see all over the world..." "I don't want to marry a sailor, I don't want to live on the coast most of the time." Or "I want to marry a bridge builder Master or explorer." The whole world is open to you, but you can't choose it, you can only leave it to the decision of fate.You may meet all kinds of people, maybe he is an alcoholic, and your marriage is not happy, but this stimulates all your emotions even more.What you marry is not someone's career, but a person of flesh and blood.In the words of the older generation of nannies, cooks and maids: "Sooner or later, 'Mr. Fate' will break into your life." When I was thirteen or fourteen, I noticed that I had undergone great physical changes, and my experience and experience had also greatly enriched. I felt that I no longer lived under the expectations of my elders.I have been able to defend myself.I also began to try to understand myself—what kind of person I was, what I could achieve and what I would not accomplish so that I could not waste my time.I know that my reaction is not sensitive, and I need to have enough time to seriously think about it before I can decide on a countermeasure. 3 After my father died, my mother went to the South of France, accompanied by Maggie, and I stayed in Ashfield alone, under the care of Jane for three weeks.That's when I got hooked on a sport and met new partners. Rollerblading on the pier was a fashionable pastime at the time.The pier is rough and uneven, making people fall frequently, but it also gives people endless fun.At the end of the pier there is a big house similar to a concert hall, which is idle in winter and used as an indoor roller skating rink. People bring their own roller skates and buy a ticket for two pennies to go in and skate.The ones I used to meet at the roller skating rink were the Lucy sisters.They were all grown up and treated me well because they learned that my mother had gone abroad to recuperate under the doctor's orders and I was left alone at home. The happiest moments of my life are when Maggie comes home for a short stay.She comes back every August.Jane came with her, stayed a few days and then went back to work.Maggie stayed at home with Jack until the end of September. Jack has brought me endless joy.He had rosy cheeks, fair hair, and a gluttonous look.We sometimes called him "Cream Egg Bun," and he had a rebellious nature, with a restless mouth, and it was very easy to get him to talk, but very hard to get him to shut up.He had a violent temper, and often had fits of tantrums as we say: flushed at first, then purple, holding his breath, until he couldn't hold it anymore, and burst into a thunderstorm! Like all children, Jack respected my mother.He always ran over early in the morning and got into my mother's bed, and I could hear their conversation through the wall.Sometimes they talked about life, and sometimes his mother told him stories. We used to go to Cheshire to spend the Christmas season with the Watts family.Jane was on vacation at this time of year, and he and Maggie were going to St. Mauritz for three weeks.He skates really well and it's the perfect vacation for him.Mother and I went to Chitto to spend Christmas with Mr. and Mrs. Watts Sr., their four children, and Jack.For children, there is nothing better than Christmas in this mansion.It's not just a big Victorian building, in a Gothic style, with lots of rooms, corridors, steps, front and back stairs, balconies, wall finishes - everything the kids love, but three pianos of different sizes and an organ. Albany is a glutton's paradise.On one side of the atrium, there is a storeroom for Mrs. Watts.It is different from my aunt's storage room, it is not locked tightly like a vault, allowing family members to come in and out to get what they need.Inside, there are shelves lined against the walls, on which all kinds of delicacies are stored.There was a shelf full of all kinds of chocolates, box by box, with various labels on them.There are also biscuits, gingerbread, various canned fruits, jams and so on in the room. In other seasons, my mother and I also come to Albenny to wish this mansion a nostalgia for me.There is a trench under the circular driveway in the yard, and I find it a good place for me to act out various historical stories and plays.I often walk around in a big way, chanting words in my mouth, and gesticulating with my hands.I'm sure the gardeners thought I was out of my mind, and that's when I got into character.It never occurred to me to write down what I conceived, and I dismissed the criticisms of the gardeners.Even today, I often walk and talk to myself—trying to make sense of a certain chapter of my writing. My creativity also shows in embroidered sofa cushions.Cushions were very fashionable at that time, especially embroidered cushions were always popular.I enthusiastically collected a lot of silk thread in autumn. At first, I bought various embroidery patterns, printed them on a square of satin with an iron, and then embroidered them with silk thread.Later, I got tired of those stereotyped patterns, so I traced the patterns on the porcelain by myself.We have some large vases from Berlin and Dresden with beautiful floral designs on them.I copied them, trying to reproduce their colors as much as possible.Grandma was very happy to hear that I was embroidering.She has been embroidering for most of her life, and she is very happy to think that her granddaughter will inherit her business.However, I have not been able to achieve her superb skills, and I have not been able to embroider landscapes and portraits like her. In the presence of Jane's father, Mr. Watts, I always felt indescribably shy.He used to call me "little dreamer," to my embarrassment.He often asked me: "What are you fantasizing about, our little dreamer?" My face was flushed.He also often asked me to play or sing sentimental songs for him.I am very good at reading notation, he would pull me to the piano every now and then, and sing him his favorite songs.I don't like these songs very much.But singing is always easier than chatting with him.Mr. Watts is an artist who specializes in landscapes such as swamps and sunsets.He is also a reputable collector of old oak furniture.In addition, he and his friend Fletcher Moss also engaged in fine art photography, publishing several anthologies of famous buildings.I wish I hadn't been so bad in front of him, at my age, when self-awareness is at its most sensitive. On Boxing Day the grown-ups took us on the train to Manchester to see fairy tales--and they were some excellent plays.Before that, I also watched fairy tale drama.The first time I watched a fairy tale play in my life was at Drew Leland, and I was taken by my aunt.It was Don Rice by Mather Guth.I still remember the plot of this fairy tale drama.For weeks I dreamed of Don Lesses.He is the funniest character I have ever seen.On the night of watching the show, an exciting thing happened.The two little princes sat in the royal box to watch the play.The prince who called Eddie accidentally knocked his program list and the small binoculars used for watching the show down near our seats in the front row of the main hall under the box.It was heartening that Prince Eddie, instead of sending the valets, walked down from the box himself, picked up the festival list and the spyglass, and politely apologized to us, saying that he hoped they hadn't hurt us. -------- ① Boxing Day.British statutory holidays.It is the day after Christmas; according to British custom, a "boxing gift" is given to the postman on this day, so it is called "Boxing Day". ———Annotation. That night I lay in bed dreaming, dreaming that one day I would marry Prince Eddie.Perhaps, at first he fell into the water and died, but I rescued him, which led to a romance...Her Royal Highness the Empress granted our marriage.Or, it was another kind of chance—the prince bled profusely and was dying, and I transfused his blood.Like Tolpi, I was made a countess, and Gopan was married to the prince. 4 Swimming was one of the great pleasures of my life, and it still is to this day.If it weren't for my arthritis, which made it difficult to get in and out of the water, my interest in swimming would have never faded. When I was about thirteen, society changed dramatically.I remember that the bathing beaches in the past were strictly separated for men and women.There is a women's bath on the seashore - a small cove paved with pebbles.There was a steep slope to the beach, and there were eight dressing-drawn carriages waiting there, tended by a grumpy old man.The swimmer stepped into the changing carriage painted with grids, closed the doors on both sides, and began to change.You also need to be extra careful when changing clothes, because not necessarily at any time, the old man will suddenly decide that it is time for you to go into the water.At this time, the carriage will run tremblingly over the loose stones, and the bumps are severe, just like today's jeeps or SUVs pass through the rocky areas in the desert. Once dressed, he opened the car door facing the water.If the old man driving the carriage is nice to you, the carriage will stop at the top step where the sea water just connects.You step out of the buggy, get down into the water just waist deep, and start swimming.Not too far away, there is a small raft, where one can swim and climb up to rest.At low tide the raft is very close together; at high tide you have to swim a great distance to get there, so you have the raft more or less to yourself.You can swim as long as you want in the water.Every time I swim, I greatly exceed the hours stipulated by the adults who accompanied me.They waved to me from a distance, beckoning me to go ashore.Once I was on the raft, however, it was very difficult for them to call me back, and I continued swimming in the opposite direction, always gaining as much time as I liked. At that time it was not fashionable to lie on the beach and get into the dressing carriage immediately after getting out of the water, but the carriage suddenly started to carry the swimmers ashore. Men's bathing beaches are located a little further up the coast.The men swam in the water wearing only a pair of briefs, out of sight of the women.However, with the development of the times, mixed baths for men and women gradually spread all over the British Isles. Maggie brings Jack to Torquay every summer, and we go snorkeling almost every day, even if it is windy and rainy, it can't dampen our interest, in fact, I prefer to swim in such weather. We have far less contact with the outside world today than when my father was alive.I had my own companions in mind, and my mother had only one or two confidantes, and there was very little social activity.This was all due to the family's financial difficulties, and the mother had no money at hand to entertain guests or pay for the carriage to the banquet.My mother has always been unsuitable for traveling long distances, and she suffers from heart disease, so she seldom goes out to visit friends.In Torquay, no matter where you go, you have to go up and down.I swim in summer, rollerblade in winter, read a lot of books, and get endless fun from books.During this period, my mother read Dickens' works to me, and my mother and I both liked his works. At first, my mother read from Walter Scott.One of my favorite works is his "Magic Weapon".I also read his long poems "Marmion" and "The Lady of the Lake".Later, both my mother and I turned our interest to Dickens' novels.My mother was impatient and skipped some passages at will.When reading Scott's works aloud, she often read, and suddenly said, "The following is a long description, the writing is beautiful and smooth, but there is no need to write so much." I think she must also use Dickens's works Some melancholy and sentimental passages in the book were quietly left out, especially those describing little Nell. The first Dickens we read was Nicholas Nickleby, and my favorite character was the old gentleman.Among all the works of Dickens, I like to read his "Bleak House" the most, and I still can't put it down. Occasionally we also read Thackeray.We got through Fame and Fortune without a hitch, but we couldn't make it through The Newcomers. "We ought to like this work," said my mother. "Everyone thinks it's Thackeray's best novel." It also makes us feel obscure and redundant.In fact.I have never been able to appreciate Thackeray's work very well. Among the books I personally read, the ones that fascinated me during this period are the French editions of Alexandre Dumas, Twenty Years Later and .Especially the first volume.Although the later volumes are occasionally incomprehensible to me, the whole work is magnificent and magnificent, and I am intoxicated and obsessed.I also enjoyed reading Lovers in the Woods and Richard's Right and Wrong by Maurice Howlett at the time.These are excellent historical novels. Going to the theater has always been an essential part of my life.When I lived in Ealing, my aunt took me to the theater at least once a week, sometimes twice.We drop by every new musical comedy and buy the sheet music for the show's music. I really enjoy playing these pieces.At Aunt Ealing's house, the piano was in the living room, and I could play for hours on end without giving anyone trouble. I took the scores back to Ashfield and played them in the study room at night.My mother often went to bed early at around eight o'clock after eating something at night.I still play the piano and sing at the top of my lungs in the room above her bedroom.After about two and a half hours, my mother couldn't stand it anymore.Just use a long rod to pull the curtains, and poke the ceiling hastily.I left the piano dejectedly. I also conceived a one-act operettas called Marjorie.I didn't write it all out, but tried to sing some fragments in the courtyard.I have a vague sense that one day I will actually be able to compose music.I even tried to write an opera.But then it was put aside again.I don't remember the whole plot, only that it had a tragic tone.An excellent tenor singer is hopelessly in love with a girl named Margaret, but Margaret does not love the young singer. Later, he married another girl, but on the day of the wedding, he received a letter from Margaret from a distant country.Tell him that she is dying, that she has realized that she loves him.Abandoning the bride, the young singer rushed to Margaret's side.When Margaret was dying, she supported her body on one elbow and sang a touching love song softly. The bride's father arrives, vowing to avenge his abandoned daughter. But the lover's misfortune moved him deeply.Finally, he joins the two lovers in a baritone voice.The whole opera ends with the most famous trio. I also had the creative urge to write a novel called "Agnes".I can't quite remember the storyline I've conceived.There seem to be four sisters in the book.The eldest sister, Queenie, has blond hair and looks charming; the second and third children are twins, with dark skin, elegant and dignified; the youngest Agnes, with ordinary appearance, shy and sickly, lies quietly on the sofa.The story is very long, and I forgot most of it. I only remember that Agnes's true value was finally realized by a celebrity with a mustache.Agnes had been secretly in love with him for many years. My mother suddenly felt that my education was not enough after all, and I should go to school for a while.There is a girls' school in Torquay run by Miss Goodwin.My mother completed the formalities for me, and went to school two days a week to attend classes and take some courses. I took math, grammar and composition as electives.My interest in arithmetic never waned, and it was probably at that school that I learned geometry.My headache was in grammar class, where I couldn't figure out why some words were called prepositions, and why certain verbs could only be used in certain ways.These terms of explaining grammar are almost as difficult as a foreign language to me.I used to study composition with enthusiasm but without any great achievements.The teacher's comments always say that my articles are weird and bizarre.Severely criticize me for writing articles that are easy to digress.I still remember one of my essays on the title.The article started off well, describing the golden and brown autumn leaves, but then, suddenly and unexpectedly, I wrote about a pig.Perhaps because it is written that it raised some acorns from the soil in the forest.Then he wrote a lot about this pig.Totally forgotten subject.I wrote of the various adventures of this pig, which ended with him throwing a great feast of beech-nuts for his friends. Later, I often thought, what would have happened if I had continued my education in school?I think I will improve.It is possible to be completely absorbed in mathematics - a subject that has always fascinated me.If that were the case, my whole life would be quite different.I might become a third-rate or fourth-rate mathematician, live happily ever after, and maybe not have to write novels.Math and music are enough for me.They hold my attention firmly and close the door to my visual world. However, after several times of thinking, I found that a person's life always develops in a predetermined direction.People often think "I would be so and so if it hadn't happened for something" or "My life would be different if I were married to another person".No matter what, I think people are always exploring their own way of life within their own pattern, because people always develop according to a pattern-this is your personal pattern in life.You can add luster to it, or sloppy it, but it is always your own pattern, and as long as you follow your own pattern, you will find harmony in your life and comfort in your soul. I studied Shiju at Miss Gaye's school for a little over a year and a half.Mother later changed her original plan.One day, she suddenly said that she wanted me to go to Paris.She wants to let Ashfield out for the winter and we go to Paris together.I could study at the boarding school my sister had attended, and she asked me if I would like to. Everything had to go according to her plan.Mother arranges everything well.She does these things with great efficiency, and everyone obeys her.House 8I is rented out at hidden price.My mother and I packed our bags and settled down at the Hotel Thienne on Avenue Thienne in Paris. My mother carried letters of introduction, addresses of boarding schools, teachers, people with ideas.Before long, she sorted it all out.She heard that Mrs. Pancinet T, the school Maggie attended, was not the same as before, and the school went from bad to worse.Mrs. Ding was already disheartened.But my mother said, I can try it out for a while.Such an attitude towards education is unacceptable these days, but to my mother, trying out a school was like patronizing a restaurant.You can't judge a restaurant by looking at it, you have to go in and taste it.If you don't like it, get out of there as soon as possible.At that time, people did not have to worry about diplomas.I don't mind whether the grades on the graduation certificate are excellent or average, and I seldom consider its impact on future prospects. What was being taught in school at the time didn't seem to interest me very much.The history class seems to be talking about the "Fronde" movement①, a period of history that I have already known from historical novels.The geography class was also about the geography of the "Fronde" movement, and I was confused by those old overviews of French provinces.The class also covered the names of the months during the French Revolution.My French dictation was terrible, much to the surprise of my class teacher, who couldn't believe it. "It's really impossible. You speak French so well, you made twenty-five mistakes in dictation, twenty-five!" No other students in the class made more than five dictation mistakes.I stand out for it.如果想想我个人的成长环境，就不足为怪了，因为我是完全通过会话学习法语的。在法语课的其他方面，如文学、背诵等等，我是班里的优秀生；但在法语语法、拼写方面，我几乎是班里成绩最差的学生。老师们觉得我很棘手，为我而感到羞愧，我自己对此却不以为然。 -------- ①“福隆德”运动又称投石党运动，系1648一1653年法国反专制制度的政治运动． ——Annotation. 教授我钢琴的是一位叫莱格朗德太太的老教师，她在那所学校执教多年。她最喜欢运用的教学方式是与她的学生一起弹奏。她坚持要求学生学会读乐谱。我的识谱能力还算不错，可是与莱格朗德太太一起弹奏却是活受罪。我们俩并排坐在一条像琴凳一样的长凳上，莱格朗德太太肥胖的身体就占去了一大半的位置，靠琴中部的那只胳膊肘把我顶得很远。她弹奏起来激情满怀，臂肘大幅度移动，叉腰似地向外撑着，结果使坐在身旁学琴的学生在合奏时不得不紧紧夹着那只手臂弹奏。 凭借着我的某些天赋，我几乎总能对付着弹奏二重奏的低音部分。莱枯朗德太太也乐于这样，因为她非常欣赏自己的演奏，而高音却又最能抒发胸臆。 有时，由于她满腔激情和专心致志地埋头弹琴，没有注意到我的低音部分已经好长时间没有声音了。我时而踌躇地弹上一小节，远远地落在她的后面，我试着跟上她的弹奏，却又不知道进行到什么地方了。我信手弹起来，力图跟她同步。可是，因为我们是看着谱弹奏．所以我不可能每次都预先找到该弹的地方。突然，一个极不合谐音把莱格朗德太大从音乐的陶醉中惊醒。她嘎然止住，两手悬在空中、厉声说道：“喂，你刚才弹了些什么，小家伙？难听死了！”她的斥责毫不过分，的的确确太难听了。我们接着又重新弹起。 当然了，假若我要是负责高音部分，稍有差错，即刻就能被察觉。但总的来说，我们配合得还不错。莱格朗德太太在弹奏的整个过程中不住地喘息和鼓鼻，胸部一起——伏，不时地发出一声声呻吟。这些举动使人惶恐而又让人消魂。可她身上散发着的强烈气味却又不那么令人愉快。 学期末，要举行一个音乐会。我被安排演奏两首乐曲，一首是贝多芬的《奏鸣曲》，另一首是《阿拉贡小夜曲》或者类似的什么曲子。我突然厌恶起《阿拉贡小夜曲》来。不知是什么原因，我发现它特别不好弹。按理来说，它应该远比贝多芬的作品容易。我排练贝多芬的作品进步很大，但《阿拉贡小夜曲》的弹奏却始终很差，毫无进展。我越全力以赴檀练习，越感到心慌意乱。在睡梦中也在琢磨怎样演奏。夜里被将会发生的各种不测所惊醒——琴键突然坏了，不得不中途换用风琴演奏，要不然就是我迟到了，或者音乐会已在前一天晚上举行过了……现在想来，这些梦属实在荒唐。 就在音乐会将要举行的前两天，我发高烧，学校把我的母亲也找了来。医生找不出发烧的起因，但他提议取消我在音乐会上的演奏，搬到校外休养两三天，等开过音乐会后再回来．我无法表达我对他无尽的感激之情，尽管与此同时也感到本来立志成功但却败下阵来的懊丧。 我还记得在盖耶小姐办的女子学校时，平日我在班里的算术是拔尖的，谁知在一次考试中却成了全班的最末一名。读考卷上的题的时候，不知怎么搞的，我的大脑中止了运转。 有些人平时学习不怎么样，可是考试的时候竞能通过，而且得分很高；有些人在平日弹奏得很差，一旦到了观众面前，却能发挥得比平日好。也有一些人则恰恰相反。我就属于后一类人。这显然也促使我选择了恰当的职业。作为一名作家，最幸运的就是可以独处，自由支配自己的时间专心写作。它虽然也会令人焦虑、烦恼，让人头痛，使人在安排明知能安排得好，却一时又很难理出头绪的故事情节时绞尽脑汁，但是作为作家，却不致在公众面前当场出丑。 我如释重负地回到了学校，心绪格外地好。我赶忙试着弹了一下《阿拉贡小夜曲》。这一次效果比以往任何一次弹得都好，但仍旧不甚理想。我继续跟着莱格朗德太太学习贝多芬奏鸣曲的剩余部分。她对我感到失望，因为我本应为她赢得一些赞誉，不过她仍旧待我和善，慰勉我，说我对音乐的感受力强。 我曾在巴黎度过了两个冬天和一个夏天，那些都是我生活很最快活的日子，各种各样有趣的事情时有发生。祖父的一位旧友也住在那儿，他的女儿，当时正在巴黎演出的大型歌剧《浮士德》中扮演玛格丽特。我去观看了她的演出。寄宿学校是不组织学生看《浮土德》的一一这一剧目被认为“不适宜少女”们观看。我倒觉得人们过高地估计这些易受腐蚀的少女们了。要想看懂玛格丽特窗前发生了什么有伤风化的事，还真需要有比当时的少女们所具备的多得多的知识。在巴黎观看演出时，我对玛格丽特为何锒铛入狱感到困惑。我以为她是偷了珠宝才坐牢。我从未想到她怀了孕，生下的孩子天折了。 学校组织我们看的大多是歌喜剧，、《绣花女》、《曼侬》。 是我最喜欢的一部。我在大歌剧院除了《浮土德》，还看过《汤豪舍》。 母亲带我去裁缝店，从那时起，我开始讲究穿戴了。我高高兴兴地在那儿订做了一件银灰色的双皱夜礼服。在此之前，还从未打扮得像个成年人。 我们通过母亲带来的那些引见信进入了法国人的社交界。在当时，美国姑娘受人欢迎。法国的贵胄们可以与美国富翁们的千金缔姻。我虽远算不上是富家小姐，父亲却也是公认的美国人，而所有的美国人又都被认为是有钱的。这是一个奇特的、冠冕堂皇的旧式社会。 我接触到的法国人都是那么彬彬有礼，举止庄重。在一个少女的眼里，再没有比这更刻板的了。尽管如此，我也学会了最客套的礼貌言辞。还跟一位叫华盛顿·劳伯的先生学会了跳舞和得体的举止，了解到《华盛顿邮报》、波士顿及其他一些事情。我还了解到遍布世界各大都市的社交界。 最使我厌恶的是图画课。母亲固执己见，执意不许我放弃这门课程。“女孩子应该学会画水粉画。” 就这样，每隔两个星期，就有一位忠厚的青年女子来找我，硬是陪着我乘地铁或公共汽车去花市附近的一个画室（当时在巴黎，少女是不能独自一人出门的）。我和一群姑娘一起学习绘画，学画水杯中的紫罗兰，小罐中的百合花以及黑色花瓶中的水仙。那位教授绘画的女士在我们的座位中间来回踱步，不时地发出几声令人不安的嗟叹。 复活节期间，我们参观游览了凡尔赛、枫丹白露以及其他一些名胜。回来后，母亲像以往一样突然告诉我，说她决定我不再回T太太的学校了。 “我有些看不上那所学校。”她说，“讲授的课程都很乏味，完全不同于麦琪上学的时候了。我打算回英国，已为你安排好了，去霍格小姐办的学校就读。” 我听后只是略感突然。在T太太的学校里我生活得很愉快，并不是特别想要回去。实际上，换一个新的地方的主意似乎更吸引人。我总是喜欢新鲜，不知道这能说明我的愚蠢还是随和——当然了，我自己倒希望是后者。 这样，我来到霍格女校。这是一所很好的学校，只是英语占了绝对优势。我喜欢这所学校，但也发现校园里的生活有些单调。我有了一位优秀的音乐教师，只是不及跟莱格朗德太太学琴时那么有趣。尽管校方严禁学生说英语，可是大家却始终用英语交谈。没有谁肯在法语上花很多功夫。 在霍格女校，校外活动得不到鼓励，甚至可以说是不允许的。这倒使我摆脱了外出补习绘画的烦扰，只是对不能再经常像游历天堂一般穿过花市而遗憾。暑假的时候我回到阿什菲尔德度假。就在假期结束的时候，母亲对我的教育又有了新的打算。对于母亲这种做法我已经习以为常了。 5 姨婆的医生巴伍德大夫有一位嫂子在巴黎办了一个女子精修班，每期只招收十二到十五名学员。每名学员都要选乐课，去艺术学校或者巴黎大学文理学院听课。“你觉得去那儿学习怎样？”母亲征询我的意见。正像我说过的那样，我喜欢新鲜，事实上这时我的信条已经确立，那就是：“无论什么，都应该尝试一下。”就这样，秋天的时候，我进入了德赖登女士设在德布瓦大街凯旋门外的德赖登女子精修班。 德赖登班的一切都那么令人惬意，我头一次感觉到，我们所学的一切都引人人胜。班里一共十二名学生。德赖登女士细高个子，身段优美，一头白发梳理得非常整齐美观。 她有些凶悍，每逢生气的时候，就喜欢使劲揉擦她那只红鼻子。她说话冷漠，夹杂着讥讽，让人惶恐却又能激励人上进。 她的助手是个法国女人，帕蒂太太，帕蒂太太是个典型的法国人，喜怒无常，多愁善感，特别容易偏激。我们大家却非常喜欢她，几乎不像惧怕德赖登女士那么怕她。 这里的生活多少有点大家庭的意味，但在学习上，人人都一丝不苟。教师特别注重音乐学习，但课程的开设也是丰富多彩的。我们从法兰西喜剧院聘请一些人来为我们讲授莫里哀、拉辛和高乃依，还从艺术学校邀请歌唱家为我们演唱吕里和格鲁克的歌曲。班里还开设了戏剧课，课上要朗诵作品。幸好我们做听写测验的次数不多，所以我的拼写错误也就不那么惹人注目。由于我的法语说得比别的同学都流畅，在背诵台词的时候完全沉醉在剧情之中，仿佛自己就是剧中那位可悲的女主人公。我站在讲台前，高声朗诵道：“大人，这一切荣华富贵恐怕是不会让我动心的。” 我们大家都喜欢上戏剧课。我们被带到法兰西喜剧院，观摩古典戏剧和一部分现代戏剧。 我认为，只有能真正刺激起学习者反应的教学才算达到了满意的效果。单纯的介绍是没有意义的，学生并不能真正学到什么新知识。请戏剧演员谈谈她所主演的戏剧，重复她的台词；请名符其实的歌唱家来为学生演唱格鲁克的《奥菲奥与欧律狄刻》中的片断，只有这样才能激起学生心中对艺术的执着的追求。这样的教学向我展示了一片崭新的世界——一个能使我终身受益无穷的艺术天地。我个人的主修课是音乐，学钢琴和声乐。教授我钢琴的是一位叫查尔斯·菲施特尔的奥地利人。他偶尔也去伦敦，举办钢琴独奏会。他是位和善而又严厉的教师。学生弹奏时，他在屋子里来回踱步，望望窗外，闻闻鲜花，好像并没有用心倾听。可是一旦你弹错了某个音，或者某个乐段弹得不准，他立即会像一只捕食的老虎蓦地一下转过身子，咆哮着：“喂，你弹的这是什么，小家伙，嗯？难听极了！”起初这一举动令人心惊肉跳，慢慢地也就习惯了。他酷爱肖邦的作品，我所学的大多是肖邦的练习曲、圆舞曲、幻想曲、即兴曲和一首叙事曲。我知道自己在他的指导下，有了长足的进步，心里很高兴。我还学习了贝多芬的奏鸣曲，几支被他称为“客厅小品”的轻快曲子，一首浪漫曲，柴可夫斯基的船夫曲，以及其他作品。 我勤学苦练，往往每天弹琴七个小时。一种强烈的热望在我的心底升腾——我不知道自己是否从理智上意识到了这一奢望，可它确实埋藏在我的心灵深处——我幻想成为一个钢琴家，在音乐会上表演。这将意味着长时间的艰苦奋斗，但我察觉到自己的进步速度非常快。 我的声乐课开始得比钢琴课要早些，指导老师是布耶先生。他与让·德·赫兹克齐名，被公认为当时巴黎最有影响的两个声乐教师。赫兹克曾经是著名的男高音歌唱家，布耶是著名的男中音歌剧演员，布耶先生认为我的头声是完美的，发出的音自然，恰到好外。胸腔音也不错，只是中音区特别成问题。为此，我得先从次女高音部练起，以发展我的中音区。 他时常为我那“英国面孔”所恼火：“又是英国面孔，一点表情都没有！太呆板了。声音、吐字都是从嗓子眼里发出的．这怎么行？法语发音要从上腭发出来，从口腔的上部。 上颚和鼻梁才是中音区发声的正确位置。你法语说得很漂亮，非常流畅，只是可惜不带英国口音，而是带着南方口音，你从哪儿学来的南方口音？”我矜持片刻说，这也许因为我是跟一位在法国南部长大的女佣学法语的缘故。 “噢，原来是这样。”他说，“对，就是这么回事。你说话带的是南部口音，你的法语说得很流畅，但用的都是英国人的发声习惯，声音是从嗓子眼里发出来的。你必须移动双唇，保持上下牙齿紧合。噢，我知道该怎么办了。” 他要我在嘴角处衔着一支铅笔，唱的时候尽量吐字清楚，但不能让笔掉下来。开始的时候，我极难做到这一点，后来终于过了这一关，能够牙齿紧咬铅笔，双唇大开大合，吐出字来。 我学会了大量的法国歌曲，还学会用德语演唱许多舒伯特的歌曲。尽管我不懂德语，学会这些歌却并不很困难，当然了，我也学用意大利语演唱。但总的说来，指导教师不允许我好高鹜远。大约学习了六个月左右之后，他允许我唱《绣花女》中的咏叹调和《托斯卡》中的咏叹调《为艺术，为爱情》。 这一段时间的生活是幸福愉快的。 有时候，学员们从卢浮宫回来。一起到一家饮食店喝茶。对一个贪嘴的姑娘来说，没有比这更开心的事情了。我最喜欢吃那里的美味的奶油蛋糕。 我们偶尔也在德赖登女士的家里聚会。有一次。她从前的一位学生带着儿子也赶来了。这位美国妇女跟一位法国子爵结了婚。她的儿子鲁迪也算得上是一位贵族，但从其相貌来看却像是——个地道的美国大学生。当他看到这十二位已经发育成熟的姑娘在用热烈好奇、甚至可能是脉脉含情的眼光一齐注视他的时候。他一定有点怯懦了。 通过与鲁迪相识，我发现自己已经发生了变化。虽然我们仅仅见过几次。但这却是某种转变的标志。at this time.我跨出了祟尚英雄的阶段，不再保有那种无私的爱情、为自己的心上人无偿地作出牺牲。从这时起，青年男子在我的眼里就是实实在在的人——一些与之相处能给我带来欢愉的人。总有一天，我要在他们中选择我的丈夫。虽然鲁迪并没有使我动心——假如我们常见面，也许我会爱上他——但我的的确确意识到自己心理上的巨变。我已经成为女子世界中的徘徊者。就在这时，我心中的最后一尊偶像——伦敦大主教的形象也隐去了。我需要跟有血有肉的小伙子交往，而且越多越好。 我猜不到自己将在德赖登女士的精修班学习多久——一一年，也许十八个月，我想是不会超过两年的。我那变化无常的母亲没有提出更改对我的教育的计划的建议，大概是没有听到什么更能振奋人心的消息。我倒是觉得。很可能是她的直觉告诉她。我对现状感到满足，正在学习有价值的东西，它们将成为我生活中乐趣的一部分。 就在我离开巴黎的前不久，—个理想火花熄灭了。德赖登女士当时正准备接待她从前的一位学生，利默里克伯爵夫人。她是一名优秀的钢琴家，也曾拜查尔斯·菲施特尔为师。每逢这种场合．班里总要组织一次非正式的音乐会，由正在学习钢琴的两三名学生表演。我参加了这次演出，其结果是灾难性的，快轮到我演奏的时候，我心中忐忑不安，在平时也是这样，不足为奇，可是当我在琴凳上落座时，这种心慌并没有像以往那样随即消失。无能感像潮水一样吞噬了我，我弹错了音符。节奏也乱了，乐句生硬笨拙———简直是一塌糊涂。 没有谁比利默里克太太更和蔼可亲的了，演奏之后她跟我谈了一次话，安抚我说她看得出来我当时心里紧张，再说怯场也是在所难免的。也许随着在观众面前演奏的经历丰富起来，怯场的心理会被克服的。她的一席话使我感激不尽，但我也意识到自己不仅仅是缺乏演奏经验的问题。 我继续学习音乐。毕业前夕，我坦率地问查尔斯·福斯特，经过刻苦学习和实践，我将来能否成为一名职业钢琴家。他很善于理解别人，没有对我说假话，他认为我缺乏在公众面前表演的气质。我觉得他是对的，感谢他能够让我了解自己的真实情况。我曾一度陷入痛苦之中。我努力从这一痛苦中摆脱出来。 假如你所追求的是不可企及的，那就最好不要让自己纠缠在懊丧和妄想的羁绊之中，而应该认识自己，继续自己的人生之路。这种早来的挫折有助于我对个人未来的选择。 它使我认识到我不具备在任何公开的场合表现自己的资质。用我个人的话来说，就是缺乏自我控制的能力。