After I moved to live with Aunt Sophie, I soon became friends with a pair of sisters who were strangers to me, Lucy and Flora.Lian became familiar.And because of the secret I discovered, I have since called their villa "Seven Magpie House".I think if it wasn't for picking flowers to decorate the church at Easter, I would never have found that mysterious place, and maybe it wasn't, but it wasn't all about the flowers--because they just wore it It's just on the head. Aunt Sophie didn't see much of us, and the feud between her and my mother is rarely mentioned these days.She lived in Witshire, and it was not a short journey from London to Midmer, where we lived, by train.I don't think she would find it worth the trip.Of course my mother wouldn't go all the way to Witshire to see her, especially since their relationship wasn't that good either!

Aunt Sophie was like a stranger to me when I was little. Although my mother and she are sisters, they look nothing alike. My mother was tall and beautiful; her features looked like those of a Greek statue; her eyes were pale blue, sometimes as if they were covered with ice, and cold; her eyebrows were slender, and her eyelashes were long and thick. Curly, smooth and beautiful hair is always neatly coiled on the head.She's always been seen—even by Mother's servants—as a weathered beauty, and it's all "circumstances" that have brought us here. Aunt Sophie is my mother's older sister, and I think they've been fighting against each other for two years.She was of medium height, but too plump to make her appear short; she had a round, ruddy face, and small shrewd brown eyes, which looked like small, seedless sweet raisins; When I got up, I could hardly see the eyes: every time my mother said something funny, her squinted eyes became the point of laughter instead.

It was no surprise that they would fall apart, my mother rarely mentioned her, she used to say it was a miracle they would grow up together. We lived, so to speak, on "the poverty line of the upper class"—mother, me, and two servants: Meg, a holdover from the "good old days"; Midmer girl from the village on the other side of Carmen. My mother put a lot of thought into maintaining her appearance.She had been brought up at Theda House, and I have always thought it a misfortune that this house was so often in our sights. There it stood, and its splendor and majesty were far better than our humble abode, the Lavendar House.Cedar House is located in Midmer.Various festivals held by the church are held on its lawn, and it also has a room specially used for priests' gatherings.On Christmas Eve, there is a choir in the courtyard, mulled wine and small pies.The Cedar Mansion has many servants, and it rules the village.

My mother's life was plagued by two things, namely, not only did she lose her old home—it was sold when her father died—but she was also burdened with his lifetime debts.The Cedar House was sold to the Carter family, a wealthy family that had started on sugar and tobacco.Two things are annoying about them—their vulgarity, and their wealth. Every time my mother looked out of her bedroom window at Cedar House, her face would harden and her lips pursed in anger, and we were all used to her daily ritual of mourning. .This ritual has always dominated our lives. "Perhaps it would be better for us to go away," said Meg, "and it won't help to keep looking at the place."

So one day I said to my mother, "Why don't we move? To a place where you don't have to look at it all day." The look of terror on her face, even at a young age like me, I knew she wanted to be here.She couldn't bear not being here.I couldn't understand her expression at the time - but I learned later - that she was enjoying her misery and resentment. She wanted to continue her life at the Cedar Mansion.She likes to get involved with the church—doing things like planning bazaars.She was annoyed that the summer festival couldn't be held on our lawn. Meg laughed at that, and said to Amy, "What! On six feet of grass! Don't make me laugh out loud!"

I have a tutor.My mother said it was necessary in our position.She couldn't pay for me to go to a good school, and if I went to a school in the village, she didn't even think about it.So there was only one option, and that was to hire a tutor for me.But they won't be here long. Past glory is irreplaceable, and that's what Lavendar House lacks.When we first arrived it was just a cottage and Meg told me, "Yes, it's been a Lavendar cottage for many years, and painting 'cottage' out and changing it to 'house' doesn't change that. what." My mother was a difficult communicator, and while I often heard stories about my family's glorious past, she rarely talked about the subject that cared most about me: my father.

When I asked about him, she didn't say anything, just pressed her lips together like a statue.I remember when she happened to be talking about the Carters at Cedar House. She said, "You don't have a father...now." This "now" and the preceding pause seemed to have a special meaning, and I protested, "But I have." "Come on, Frederica, of course everyone had a father at one time." I was always called Frederica by them, because there were already so many Frederiks in our family.My mother said there were half a dozen photographs of Frederick hanging in the cloister.I have heard of Sir Frederick, who was created for the battle of Bosworth; one who distinguished himself at Waterloo;If I were a boy, my name would be Frederick.But it just wasn't, so I went by Frederica, which was also inconvenient, because people usually called it Freddy or Fred, which was confusing.

"Is he dead?" I asked. "I told you. You don't have a father now. That's the end of the matter." From then on, I knew there must be something secret about him. I don't remember ever seeing him.As a matter of fact, I can't recall ever living anywhere other than this house.The ordinary, the cottage, the church, everything in the shadow of the Cedar house had been a part of my life until then. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Meg and Amy.They are friendlier than anyone else. I was not allowed to be friends with the villagers, not even the Carters, with whom my mother maintained a distant and polite relationship.

I soon learned that my mother was a very unhappy woman. Meg said to me once: "This life isn't a life at all. Everybody knows that Lavendar House is just a Lavendar cottage. You can't just change the name and make it satisfactory, you say it is. No, Miss Fred." Although they called me Miss Frederica in front of my mother, privately--when it was just me and Meg--I was just Miss Freder or Miss Freddy.Frederica was such a mouthful that Meg didn't think it was a very good name, and she didn't call me that unless she had to. "I tell you, Miss Fred, a hut is a hut, no matter what fancy name you call it. I think we might as well move into the little house in Claffing . . . and get down to earth, without pretending to be ourselves." What celebrities, we'll have a good time there."

There was longing in Meg's eyes.She grew up in East London and has always been proud of it. "It's a good life over there. On a Saturday night, the market is brightly lit. There's cockles and mussels and snails and snails and frozen eels. Not bad, huh? What's up here?" "There are festivals and choirs." "Don't be silly! A lot of arrogant people are pretending to be themselves! Why don't you just move to London?" Meg liked to mention London.There were coach buses to the west end of London, and she used to go there on Rosh Hashanah.She had some fond memories there, when she was just a kid, before she became the idiot she was now, before she got a job...before she got to Theda Mansion.She saw the queen in the carriage, not only saw it, she even thought she was the queen. "Yes, we could have a better life over there instead of down here. Lovely little place...Brownley near London, maybe in Stepney. Stuff is cheap there. But we Come here, Lavendar House, why? It's no better than the Stepney I grew up in."

Whenever Meg mentioned London, she talked endlessly.But I'm also very interested in listening, but I want to know more about my father now. "Have you been a long time with my mother, Meg?" I asked. "Well, fifteen years." "Then you must know my father." She was obviously still intoxicated with happy memories, and she was reluctant to talk to me. "He's kind of..." she said, and started laughing. "That kind of person?" "Oh, nothing." I could tell she must be thinking about my father. "I should have told your mother." "What should you tell her?" "It wasn't going to last. I spoke to the chef...we had a chef at the time. I said to her: 'It won't last. He's not the type to settle down and she's not the type. Can bear too many people.'” "What is she going to endure?" "Of course it's him, and he's going to put up with her. It turns out I was right." "I don't remember him at all." "Of course you don't. You were a year old when he left." "Where did he go?" "Walk with her, I guess...another woman." "Don't you think it's time to let me know?" "You'll know when it's time to know." Meg and my mother later had a conflict.The fuse is beef.My mother complained that the beef was undercooked. She retorted that it was because the beef was not good enough, and my mother insisted that it was not cooked long enough.Meg is becoming more and more important in our family, and that is her greatest weapon.If she's gone, where are we going to find another Meg?It's always good to have someone in your home for many years.As for Meg, I guess she doesn't want to leave either. The matter was soon played down, but Meg was still bitter.Whenever this happened, it was always easy to get some information out of her. "You know, Meg, I'm nearly thirteen." "Of course I do. You've got a bright head, Miss Fred. And you won't follow in your mother's footsteps." I know Meg has always liked me.She called Amy once in my presence and called me "poor little one". "I want to know about my father." "Father?" She fell into memory again, which is her habit. "Father is such a ridiculous existence. You wait for his love, but he has a belt ready for you. I have a father like that. In short, he is unemployed, and he takes you with a belt when he is drunk, smart It's better to stay away from him, this is the so-called father." "It's dreadful, Meg, and where is my father?" "He was very handsome. They were an admirable couple. They used to go to regimental balls, and they would go to the movies...together. Your mother didn't look so bad back then as she does now— Not always so now, of course. We used to be at the window and watch them get into the carriage, and he was in a sharp uniform . . . " Meg's eyes were shining brightly. "The regimental ball?" "Your father was a soldier. According to the cook, he's not low in the army...an officer, major, or something. And he's a handsome fellow. He has peach eyes." "What's the meaning?" "That means his eyes are restless." "I still do not get it." Meg didn't explain further, and I could see she didn't want to continue the subject, so I pressed, "What's the matter with him? Did he go to war?" "I don't know. There didn't seem to be any wars back then. We all moved with the army. Just settled down and then left again. There was a lot of marching and stuff. It's not human life." "Are you all with them?" "Yeah, I followed your mother before she got married. It was the wedding of the century... at Cedar House. I can just imagine her coming out of the church. It was a grand occasion, but it turned out to be like this." Kind of ending." "Never mind that, what happened after that?" "They went on their honeymoon... and then we were running around with the Legion. They were married less than three months before your grandfather died. Then the Cedars were sold and the Carters came and all. And, I could tell, their marriage wasn't going to last. He wasn't the type for married life. Before long, there was another guy..." "You mean after he married my mother?" "Married or not will make no difference to him." Things were getting more and more interesting, and I was afraid something would interrupt our conversation—perhaps Meg would suddenly think of my age, and feel that I had talked too much. "You've made some changes since you were born. She can't go to balls as often." "and then?" "It's the same, they still seem to be far apart. Rumors have been circulating, but she doesn't do anything, just dress herself up every day." "What do you mean, Meg?" "She knew about that woman. That woman was socially active, a bit of a courtesan. Just a match for him, don't you think? She has a husband. They... seem to have been caught by his husband. How old-fashioned." The plot. Then it seems to be divorced, I think he married her not long after. They... probably lived happily ever after. Your mother has never let it go. If the Cedar mansion has not been sold, She could have gone back there, so things might not have been so bad. But when the house was sold, not only was there little left, but a large debt was left to be paid by your mother and Miss Sophie. She bought a Your own house, and your mother lives here, of course she also got a little maintenance from your father... But you have also seen it, it is really useless." "Is he still alive?" "Of course she's alive, and she's alive and well, but your mother never forgets it, she never mentions it. If only she could go back to Cedar House, I think she'll get better sooner. By the way. , don’t tell anyone that I told you, I can’t afford it if your mother blames it. But I think everyone has a right to know about their father!” "I don't know if I'll ever see him again." She shook her head. "He won't come here, my dear." Having told me so much, Meg found it hard not to go on.And, whenever I could get away from my governess, I ran to her. I found out that she wasn't really reluctant to talk, just scruples, and she actually loved talking to people and her job, her sister was also a maid, working in Somerside. "There's the butler, the housekeeper, the kitchen maids, the hall maids...a whole bunch of people. There's also the grooms who take care of the carriages and tidy the stables. You know, there are people in charge of these things, and it's not an easy job!" "Meg, I've always wondered why you're still here?" "Nice, you can switch from watching the frying pan to tending the fire!" "Tell me about my father." "Didn't I already tell you? And you mustn't let your mother know what I told you. Though I think you should. Someday, though, she'll tell you herself. I think he's putting up with There are always two sides to one thing! He's a funny man. All the servants like him. He's always fond of joking with them, too." "You seem to be on his side." "It's hard to say. In fact, I don't stand on both sides. Others do too. I think he seems to be deliberately picking trouble. If your mother wants to do this, he will do that on purpose..." Just then, my mother came into the kitchen.She was surprised to find me here. "Meg," she said, "I want to discuss tonight's menu with you." Meg looked up at the ceiling, while I took the opportunity to run away.We had veal sirloin last night, so today it should be cold beef, but my mother always comes into the kitchen to discuss it with Meg.Of course she would have preferred to send for Meg, but no one could have called her except Amy, and that meant Amy had to put down what she was doing for a while, but she was a slow doctor through and through, so It was better to go to her herself than to tell her to call Meg. And Lavendar House had no bells, and they were too expensive to install, so they were never installed.As for having a fixed time-table for everyday chores, that was not to her liking, for, as Meg said, she was quick-tempered, and did not like to be bound by time.So she still had to go to the kitchen to find Meg now. I often want to say to my mother that we really don't need to slap our faces and pretend to be fat.I thought of Robert.Byrne's words -- cherish what we have recognize your true face What a lovely sentence - especially for my mother.If she could do that, maybe her husband wouldn't leave her, and I would know about my father.I took him for a married man with shining eyes that would bewitch others, like Meg. Once, I also saw Meg adorning herself.At that time, she was still dressing up and talking about my father.It was at the butcher shop owned by Mr. Burr, who was chopping meat on the chopping board and yelling at customers: "Buy! Buy! Buy!" Although Mr. Burr was a butcher, he looked very fashionable.He was wearing a blue and white striped apron and a straw hat, which he wore neatly at one side.His eyes twinkle when he jokes with customers, mostly women of course. Meg said what he said was "very explicit," but it was really all funny. She said to him once: "You've lived quite happily. But watch what you say, young man." He blinked, then said: "Thank you for your advice, madam, is that what you came into my shop to tell me?" "Rash boy," retorted Meg. My dad was the kind of guy who could make her come out as she really was, especially with Mr. Burr.This is a very important thing, and it makes me ponder over and over again.
I'm on my way to the pastor's house.My mother told me to take a letter to John.Reverend Moses.She does it all the time, especially when she's in a bad mood. This time the incident was caused by the floral arrangement of the church.Last year, she already complained again and again.Mrs. Carter and Miss Old did not know how to arrange it at all.And honestly, how could you expect a store owner turned upstart to know this?Their arrangement was utterly vulgar.As for Miss Old, she was a poor smirking wretch who obeyed the curate, and it was obvious that she was only Mrs. Carter's puppet.The absurdity is that my mother had a great deal of experience decorating churches during her days at Cedar House; and the gentlemen of those days were very influential in ecclesiastical affairs. I know my mother is troubled by this, and of course it doesn't matter to me, but she sees it as a matter of her dignity, so it is very important to her.She had sent many letters to Pastor Moses telling him what had happened and expressing her anger.This season will cause her a special state of tension, and she will often make a fuss about anything that happens. It was a lovely spring day.I happened to pass by the park near the pond and caught a glimpse of two old men sitting on chairs, I recognized them because they had been sitting there for many days.They're farmers, or, because they're too old to work, they sit and talk now during the day.I said "good morning" to them as I walked by. I turned into a lane that led to the parsonage.The country is beautiful at this time of year, the horse chestnuts are in bloom, and the violets and sorrel are in great abundance under the hedges.What a contrast to what Meg said about the frozen eels at the market! It was funny to think of it--my mother, thinking of a stately mansion, and Meg thinking of her London streets.Maybe people always look forward to what they can't get! The parsonage arrived—a long gray house.There is a lovely garden at the front and a large cemetery juts out further. The vicar received me in a rambling living room with mullioned windows looking out onto the cemetery.He was sitting at a desk scattered with many papers. "Oh, Miss Hyman!" he said, pushing his glasses to his forehead.He was a gentle man, and I noticed immediately the worry in his moist gray eyes.He was a peaceful man, but that state was usually disrupted after contacting my mother.His terror was confirmed when I told him that there was a letter from my mother for him. I handed him the letter. "I guess I should take an answer back with me," I said politely. "Oh yes... yes." He put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and turned slightly so I couldn't see his reaction after reading the letter. "Honey, honey," he said, and his eyes panicked. "It's about the Easter flowers, which Mrs. Carter has prepared, and naturally..." "Of course." I said. "And she... er... has asked Miss Old to arrange it for her, and I believe Miss Old has agreed to do so, so you know..." "Yes, I know. I know exactly what you mean." "Then...if you can convey my apologies to your mother...uh...explain to her...I really can't help you with this matter, I don't think there is any need to write it." From what I know of my mother, I feel really sorry for him. "Thank you, Miss Hyman. Please do express my regret." "I will." I promised him. I left the parsonage, but didn't want to go back so soon.I knew there was going to be a big storm.I feel very irritable.What the hell does it matter who prepares those flowers?Why does she care so much?Not just because of the flowers, but because of that eternal shadow.When she was able to call the wind and rain before, those flowers were all prepared by her.She can decide what flowers will be placed on the altar or pulpit.These things seem so trivial.I felt both anger and pity for her. So I've been hanging around outside trying to figure out how to tell her about it. She is waiting for me. "Why have you been there for so long. Hmm... did you get a reply from him?" "No need to write at all," I said. Then I told her, "Mrs. Carter has the flowers ready, and Miss Old is arranging for her, because she has asked her to help." She stared at me like I was declaring some catastrophe. "No!" she yelled. "I think that's what he means. There's nothing he can do about it, and he's very sorry for you." "Oh, how dare he do this to me! How dare he do this to me!" "You know, his explanation was that since Mrs. Carter got the flowers ready, he couldn't do anything about it." "That vulgar woman!" Her often pale face was now purple with anger, her whole body was shaking, and her lips were trembling. "Really, Mom," I said. "It's just flowers for Easter, no big deal?" She closes her eyes.I could see the blue veins on her forehead popping out and beating rapidly.She gasped, then shook even more.I got there first and hugged her before she passed out.I found that she was foaming at the mouth. I want to yell.This is ridiculous, this is really ridiculous!I was suddenly frightened. It turned out that this matter was very important to my mother.Fortunately, there happened to be a large easy-chair nearby, and I settled her down first, and then hurried to Meg. The two of us, and Amy, worked together to move her to her bed. The doctor came, and Meg took him to my mother's room, while I stood on the stairs and listened intently. My governess, Miss Graves, came too, and saw me standing on the stairs. "What's wrong?" "My mother is ill." Miss Graves tried to look sad, but failed.She is the kind of person who rides a donkey to find a horse. She followed me into the living room and waited for the doctor to leave. I heard him come downstairs with Meg, and he said to Meg, "I'll be back in the afternoon, and we'll talk then." Meg thanked him, and then she too came into the drawing-room. She looked at me with anxiety in her eyes.I knew she was worried about me, not my mother. "What happened?" Miss Graves asked. "He said she had a stroke...a cerebral hemorrhage." "What's that?" I asked. "It's not optimistic, but it's not certain. We'll have to wait and see." "How dreadful," said Miss Graves. "Is she...uh..." "The doctor isn't sure yet. He'll be back. She's in poor health." "Will she get better?" I asked. "He's already given her some medicine. He says she herself ... knows nothing of her illness. He'll come again, and bring young Dr. Egham with him." "That sounds terrible," I said, "she must be very bad." Meg looked at me sadly, and said, "I think so." Miss Graves went on, "Well, if nothing happens If so, I think..." She left us.I don't think she really cares about it.That morning, the post office had a letter from her.I guess she must have found a better job.She will become a family teacher of a well-known lady, and she will not have to teach anything.I began to learn to read words and emotions. Anyway, I'm always glad she's gone.Meg is the one who really cares about our family. "What's wrong with her?" I asked. "I guess it's the same as you, dear. She's very ill. My Aunt Jane has it too. Can't move half of her body, can't talk . . . can only mumble. For a year. Like a baby." "Oh no...no!" "Also, they don't necessarily heal completely. It can happen to anyone at any time. Your career can be in the sky, and God thinks it's time to hit you." I went on thinking about my mother, so dignified, so proud of her birth, angry and bitter at the blows that fate had dealt her: I felt so much sympathy for her now.I understand more than ever, and I hope one day I can let her know that I understand it all. A terrible feeling of dread came over me like never before, and then it all turned into anger, seething in my chest.All because of those stupid Easter flowers.It was all because of her anger that led to this situation.Oh no!And not just because of the flowers.Anger, grief, resentment, all these emotions had been growing in her for a long time.The flower is just a fuse, to detonate all the anger and jealousy she has smoldering towards fate in the past few years. When the doctor came again, he brought Dr. Agham with him.They stayed in my mother's room for a long time.Meg was with her all the time, and then they all went into the drawing-room, and called me. Dr. Kenton looked at me in a way that made me dread hearing the worst. "Your mother is very ill," he said. "There is hope for recovery though. If it does, I'm afraid she too will be severely handicapped. She will need someone to take care of her." He looked at me hesitantly, then turned to look hopefully Meg. "We'll watch for a few more days. More symptoms may show up by then. Does she have any relatives?" "I have an aunt," I told him. "My mother's sister." His face suddenly brightened. "Does she live far away?" "She lives in Witshire." "I think you'd better let her know what's going on here at once." I nod. "So," he continued. "We'll wait and see... until the end of the week. It should be clearer by then." Dr. Agham gave me an encouraging smile; Dr. Kenton put his hand on my shoulder and patted me lightly.I feel like the eye sockets are a bit blurry. "We all hope for the best," says Dr. Kenton. "At this time, you should let your aunt know." "You don't need to do anything else. If there is any change in her condition, let me know immediately. I will come back tomorrow." Meg and I looked at each other in silence for a while after they had gone. We're all wondering what's going to happen next.
this weekend.Aunt Sophie is here.I was so happy to see her that I immediately threw myself into her arms excitedly. She hugged me tightly too; her eyelids were wrinkled from the emotion, and her eyes were a little moist. "My poor child," she said. "What a crime, your unfortunate mother. Let's see what else we can do." I said, "This is Meg." "Hello, Meg. I know it's a big blow to you. Never mind, we'll figure it out together." "Would you like to rest in your room first, Miss Cuttingham?" asked Meg. "Alright. Just take your luggage in first. This journey is enough." "Later, I thought you might like to see Mrs. Hyman." "Yeah, I forgot if you didn't tell me. How is she now?" "She doesn't seem to be conscious all the time. She may not recognize you in a minute, Miss Cuttingham." "It doesn't matter. I want to wash my hands first. It's a dirty ride on the train. We'll start working later. Come with me, Frederica." We walked together to the room which had been prepared for her, and Meg retired to her room to rest. "She's a nice woman," said Aunt Sophie. "yes." "She must be worried. It's okay, let's find a way together. What did the doctor say?" "He said there was little hope of a full recovery. They said there might be someone to take care of her." She nodded. "It's okay, I'm here now." She smiled sadly at me. "Poor child... so young. How old are you supposed to be?" "Thirteen." I said. "Oh!" she murmured. Amy brought hot water, Aunt Sophie began to wash, and I sat on the bed and watched her. As she dried her hands, she glanced out of the window and smiled wryly. "That's home," she said. "She also chose a place to live where she could see it 24/7. Not easy!" I nod. "That often frustrates her." "I know. Poor thing, she just can't forget those things." "She doesn't want to." "I know her. Well, it's too late." She turned her head and gave me a soft smile. "Thirteen years old, it's too heavy to bear these burdens at this age. You should enjoy your youth now, and you are young only once." I found that when I speak, I often like to fly from the sky, and my thinking is often not continuous. "It's okay," she continued. "What happens has happened, and life has to go on! Don't worry. Aunt Sophie will find a way. Meg has been with you a long time?" "Well, she's always there," I told her. She nodded, looking out the window. "She was here before the home was sold. Good woman, there are not many people like this now." I took my aunt to see my mother, and I was sure she wouldn't recognize her.I found it unbearable to look at her, her eyes staring blankly straight ahead, her lips quivering.I thought she might have something to say, but none of us could understand what she was saying. We didn't stay too long, because there was no use for it except to make us sad. "Poor Caroline," said Aunt Sophie. "Think of what happened to her today. I think she'd better not know. Otherwise she can't bear it." Then she turned to me and put her hands on my shoulders. "Don't worry, kid, I'll take care of everything." I really feel better since Aunt Sophie came. Later, Dr. Kenton knew that his aunt had come, and he was also very happy. After the follow-up visit, he had a long talk with his aunt. After he left, my aunt took me to her room, and I thought she had a lot to say to me. "I know you're young," she said, "but there are a lot of things that we can't get our hands on . ，她需要专人的照顾。梅格是个坚强的好女人，不过这件事她一个人也应付不来。我已经前前后后都想过了。现在我们可以请一个特别护士到家里来，不过并不容易。但是我们还有另一个选择，就是把她送到疗养院去，在那儿她会得到完全的照料，我住的附近就有一个，我们可以把她送到那儿去。” “那里会不会很贵？” “哦，也许吧，生意人的头脑总是很精明的。” 苏菲姨妈笑了——她的笑总是会刺激我母亲的神经，不过倒是令我觉得很舒服，这是自从她来了以后，我第一次听见她笑。 “亲爱的，这的确要花一大笔钱，不过不要紧，我的经济状况还算宽裕。我有一间小房子和一个仆人——我忠心的莉莉。我也不花钱打扮。我对我的小房子很满意，我们有一个大花园，而且自己种一些菜。和你母亲比较起来——虽然我们的收入差不多，因为我们均分了可怜的父亲一点仅剩的财产——相对地，我过得舒服多了。 但是恐怕还是不够支付你母亲到疗养院的费用，不过我倒是有一个计划。 " 她再次温柔的望着我。 “我一直很喜欢你，弗雷德莉卡。多么高贵的名字啊，真是只有你母亲才想得出来。不过我自己私下都叫你佛莱迪。” 我说：“对，佛莱迪听起来……比较平易近人。”我希望苏菲姨妈不要走，我想跟着她，想求她留下来。自从她来了以后，我心里踏实多了，事情看起来似乎也没那么槽了。 “好了，”她继续。“现在，佛莱迪，听着，你才十三岁，还没办法自己照顾自己，我想……如果你不排斥的话……我想让你跟着我。我现在是你唯一能求助的人了，恐怕，我们没有太多选择。” 我笃定地对她笑了笑。 “我想，我这个人还算不难相处，而且我已经想到了一个万全之计。” “是什么？”我说。 “这个计划如果真实行起来的话，可是个大变动呢！梅格和那个年轻女孩，我想让他们到别的地方工作，这间房子也可能要卖掉，所得的钱再拿来付你母亲的医药费……再加上你母亲原本剩下来的钱，应该够了，这样我们也可以安心地上路。你到我们家来住。说实话，佛莱迪，我已经想不出别的办法了。我已经和医生谈过。他也认为这个主意不错，而且是唯一的办法。” 我一句话也说不出来。我觉得我的生活就在我眼前破碎了。 她专注地看着我。接着说：“孩子，我知道这一时之间令你很难接受，不过，过一阵子你就会适应的。莉莉虽然有点聒噪，不过人还不坏，我也不是个难相处的老人，而且我一直郡很喜欢年轻人。” 我觉得自己有点被她说动了。
我去问梅格的意见，她说：“往后这几年，日子可能会难过点，不过她是对的。这是唯一的办法。我没办法把你妈照顾得很好，但是我也不能忍受家里住了一个护士。她们都很难侍候——一下要这个，一下要那个，不只是为了病人，通常也是为她们自己。我想，往后的日子你得坚强点了，佛莱德小姐。” “没关系，我不怕，你呢，梅格，这样一来你也要找别的工作了。” “我已经写信给我在索美塞德郡的姊姊了，那是个大户人家，而且她说过他们那里一直都缺人的。不知道能不能说得成……不过凡事总要有个开始嘛，我一直想要在那样的房子里工作，你记不记得，我一开始就是在西达大宅做事的。对了，我也向我姊姊提到艾咪了，希望也能有份差事给她。” “哦，梅格，我会很想念你的！” “我也是，亲爱的。不过人生就是这样，总是不停地变化。我想你跟着苏菲小姐会过得很好的。我从很早以前就认识她了，她是个小心谨慎的人，不过有时候会有点淘气，但是她的心肠很好，那是最重要的。你和她在一起会比和你妈在一起更有生气的。” “我真的希望每件事都将会很顺利。” “会的！自从她来到这儿以后，就好像为我们点亮了一盏明灯，我们必须面对现实，你母亲的病情可能不会再有起色了，她必须有专人照顾，而且她最好是到疗养院去静养，你要常去看她，这样可能会好一点。信任苏菲小姐，她总是会把事情处理得很好。” 一切都成真了，房子被拍卖了，那是个令人中意的地点，买主很多。苏菲姨妈是个很能干的人。她说仆人们如果需要可以留下来，直到找到下一个工作为止。她们不能就这样被赶走，这是对买主的一个基本要求。 梅格的姊姊那边也有好消息传来，她替她找到了一个空缺。虽然只是女佣，不过毕竟是份差事，而且这也是梅格想做的事，可以让她“一展身手”。艾咪就没那么幸运了，不过邻近还有很多大户人家，而且仆人们彼此都很友善，她已经听说有人需要她过去了。她不久就要去面试，还带了推荐函，那可是大有用处的呢！ 事情进行得都还算顺利，所以我们也就越来越乐观。 苏菲姨妈好像童话中的仙女，只要挥挥她的魔杖，我们的梦想就都成真了。 由于连日来的相处，使我和苏菲姨妈的距离拉近不少，我的胆子也渐渐大了，所以我决定问问她关于我父亲的事。 有一天我终于逮到了机会，我对她说：“姨妈，你知不知道关于我父亲的事？” 她的表情马上有了改变，变得警觉了起来。 “你父亲的事？”她问道。口气很尖锐。 “他的事有什么好提的。”接着她沉思了一会儿。 “毕竟，”我怯怯地说，“他曾经是她的丈夫……而且……是我的父亲。” “没错，不过那都是过去的事了，你也知道，他们已经离婚了。” “是的，可是他还是……至少他还是我父亲。” “那都是很久以前的事了。” “也不过十二年而已。” “他现在已经有一个全新的生活了。” “和一个新的家庭？” "Maybe." “所以你认为他不会再关心我了？” 她笑了，而且脸上的表情柔和了许多。 我说：“你喜欢他，对不对？” “大部分的人都喜欢他。不过，他并不是个认真的人……从来都不是。” 我等着她继续讲，不过她似乎没有那个意思，最后我按捺不住了，就对她说：“你认为他真的不值得一提吗？或者是你认为他根本就不希望我们记得他？” “这些往事提起来……令人很不舒服。当人们离婚了以后，他们通常会变成敌人。他是那种不喜欢麻烦的人……所以他会统统把它们抛诸脑后。哦，亲爱的，让我们把那些不愉快的事统统忘掉吧，你就要跟我回去了。” 我还是没办法把我父亲的事忘掉，她伸过手来按住我的手说：“你没听人家说吗，'沉睡的狗不要叫醒。'” "I know." “如果你把它们叫醒了，可能会吠声震天，而且引发很多不愉快，让我们一起去威特夏吧！想想你在那边的生活，你会去上学，或是做其他的事。你可以接受教育，是不是？这些才是重要的事。你和我还有一大堆决定要做呢！不要让已经过去的事成为自己的负担，我们要勇往直前。你母亲的缺点就是老是回头看。这样是不好的，佛莱迪。我有预感我们两个会相处得很融洽的。” “你说的对，姨妈，我真不知道该怎么感谢你才好，自从你来了以后，就为我们做了好多事。” “那是应该的，说真的，我很高兴有你这么个外甥女。” “我也是，苏菲姨妈，我觉得有你这个姨妈真好。” 然后我们互相亲吻，依偎在一起，我觉得心中有一股前所未有的安全感。 接下来的几个礼拜，我们忙得团团转。先是拍卖家俱，拍卖所得比我们想像的多很多，原因是其中有很多件是我母亲从西达大宅带过来的珍藏品。 梅格和艾咪也启程往索美塞德郡了，而我们的房子也确定了买主。 我母亲被送到达维兹的一家疗养院，那里离苏菲姨妈家很近，所以我们至少可以一个礼拜去探望她一次。苏菲姨妈说她还有一辆几乎是等于她的马车。 “不会比双轮轻马车大多少，它是属于乔．加宾的车，他大约一个礼拜在我们的花园工作一小时，而且不管我们想要去哪里，他都可以载我们去。” 拉文达屋卖了。我也无憾地看了西达大宅最后一眼，因为我曾责怪它不断地让我母亲回想起她失落的华宅和她的“黄金岁月”。最后，我和苏菲姨妈一起离开了这个地方，准备展开我在威特夏的新生活。