Even when the feeder train pulled in, I was saying to myself, "It's not too late, you can turn back now." I had traveled all day across the English Channel the night before.During the journey, I mustered up the courage to know that I was not a stupid girl, but a wise woman who made up her mind and could carry it out.What happens after arriving at the castle is beyond my control.However, I told myself that I must be dignified and self-restraining, showing that I have never been desperate and anxious.If they reject me, I will hide my thoughts about the future, and I will face the pain.I don't want anyone to know what this position means to me.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I look the way I like myself.I am twenty-eight years old, wearing a dun traveling poncho and matching felt hat, they are more functional than decorative, after traveling all night I look more like my age, I am unmarried and therefore often accept Others looked at me with pity, and I heard others say that I am an "old maid" and "can't get married".The implication of those words annoyed me, as if the purpose of a woman's existence was to serve certain men.This is the machismo argument.From my twenty-third birthday, I was determined to prove it wrong, and I believe I am doing so.There was something worth caring about in life, and I convinced myself to discover it.

The train slowed, and the only other passenger to disembark was a peasant woman with a basket of eggs in one arm and a live chicken in the other.I unpacked my suitcases, several of which were all my belongings, including a small wardrobe, and some necessary tools for the job. The only porter stood at the ticket gate. "Good morning, ma'am," he said, "if you don't hurry, the baby will be delivered before you arrive. I heard that your Mary was in labor three hours ago, and the midwife has arrived." "Please, it's a boy this time, it's all girls, what the hell is God thinking..."

The porter was far more interested in me than the sex of the impending baby, I noticed, eyeing me as he spoke. My suitcase was at my feet now, and as he whistled forward to send the train on its way, an old man hurried into the little platform. "Hi! Joseph." The porter greeted him and nodded to me. Joseph looked at me and shook his head. "Man," he said. "Are you from Glad Castle?" I asked in French.I got used to French from novels, my mother lived in France, and when we were alone we used to talk in French, but when my father was around we spoke English. Joseph approached me, mouth parted, eyes suspicious.

"Yes, miss, but..." "You came to pick me up." "Miss, I'm here to pick up Mr. Lawson." He spoke the English name with difficulty. I smiled, trying to force a touch of nonchalance into my demeanor, reminding myself that this was just the smallest obstacle I would encounter.I pointed to the tag on the luggage: Dr. Lawson. Then, realizing that Joseph might not be able to read, I explained, "I'm Miss Lawson." "From England?" he asked. I give him a nod. "I was told he was an English gentleman." "It's a misunderstanding, it's an English lady."

He scratched his head. "Can I go?" I asked.Looking at the luggage under my feet, the porter slowly came over. When he and Joseph looked at each other, I said authoritatively: "Please put my luggage in, this, um... means of transportation, leave for Gu Fort." I've been learning self-control over the years, and I don't feel any signs of worry.My attitude was as effective here as at home, and the porter and Joseph loaded their luggage into the waiting chaise, I followed, and in a few minutes we were on our way. "Is the castle far from here?" I asked. "About two kilometers, miss, you can see it soon."

I look at the wine fields, it's the end of October, the harvest is over, and I assume they're getting ready for the next season of planting.We walked around the church and the town hall in the square of the small town. There were shops and houses on the branch-like streets, and then I saw the castle for the first time. I will never forget that moment when my common sense was gone. It was last year when I comforted myself that a person who has gained nothing must have a lot to talk about to comfort himself.I also forgot what a difficult position I was in.Although logic dictated caution, I chuckled and whispered, "Whatever happens, I'm glad I'm here."

Fortunately, I was speaking in English Joseph couldn't understand, so I quickly asked, "Is this Gaillard Castle?" "This is the castle, miss." "It's not the only Gaillard in France. There is another Gaillard in Normandy, where Richard the Lionheart was imprisoned." The preserved castle is extraordinary." "This old castle is close to death. Why, in the era of terror, it was almost destroyed." "How lucky!" I heard the emotion in my voice and hoped Joseph didn't.I was fascinated by the castle and longed to live in it, explore it, and get acquainted with it.I feel like this is where I've always wanted to be, and I would be very unhappy if I were taken away from it, and it's not because I don't know how to settle myself back in England.

For the time being, I let the due caution stand between me and my expectations of the castle.I had a distant cousin in northern England who was actually a relative of my father, and he always said of her, "If anything happens, you can always go to Cousin Jane, she's a difficult woman, and you'll have It's been a tough time, but at least she's going to do her part." That's not much of an expectation for a woman who's been denied any attractiveness enough to marry, has developed a protective shell, disguised with pride Own.Cousin Jane...never, I told myself.I would rather be a poor tutor, living on the whims of indifferent employers or the pranks of naughty children, or the companion of a whining old woman.No, I'll be alone, not because a black hole of loneliness and humiliation awaits me, but because I'll be denied the endless joy of work in a place I love, and it's enough to think that there are such places in the world Make my life fun.

It's not what I imagined, it far exceeded my expectations.Occasionally in life, the real world is more exciting and fascinating than the imaginary world, but it is rare, so when it occurs, it should be fully appreciated. Maybe I should enjoy this moment, because it may be the last happiness I will have for a long time to come. So I stare intently at this fine fifteenth-century building that towers over grape country for a decade or two with my trained eye.There were extensions of the house in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but these additions, far from destroying the original harmony, added character.I can see the round towers on either side of the main building, I know the main staircase is in the polygonal towers, and my general knowledge of old buildings is excellent.Although I hated my father's attitude towards me in the past, I am grateful for everything he taught me.Its appearance is purely medieval, and its strong buttresses and steeples make people feel that it was built to defend against foreign enemies.I calculated the thickness of the walls and the narrow windows, and I was sure it was a fortress.My eyes looked around from the drawbridge to the ditch, which was dry of course, and I caught a glimpse of lush green grass growing.I was overwhelmed with excitement when I saw that the balustrades of the eaves pillars were supported by countless outer wall eyes.

Old Joseph was saying something, and I guess he'd made up his mind.It has nothing to do with him whether it is a man or a woman. "Yes," he said, "everything is going on in the old castle, and the Count will take care of everything." Monsieur Earl, he is the man I shall face.I imagined him: an aloof aristocrat, the kind who rode through the streets of Paris in a prison cart to the guillotine, still haughty and heartless.Therefore, he will definitely drive me away. "Ridiculous!" he would say. "My invitation is very clearly to your father, and you must leave immediately." It must be useless to say: "I am as powerful as my father, and I work with him. In fact, I know more about ancient paintings than he does. He often entrusts me with this part of the business." This part of the business!How to explain it to an indifferent Frenchman?Tell him that women can be as efficient and intelligent as men in the professional work of restoring ancient paintings. "Monsieur Count, I am an artist..." I can picture his contempt, "Miss, I'm not interested in your qualifications, I'm inviting Mr. Lawson, I didn't invite you, so let me ask you to leave my house (... my territory?  … My castle?) without delay." Joseph looked at me keenly, and I could see that he was thinking that it was strange for Monsieur the Earl to invite a woman. I would like to ask something about the count, but I cannot.It would be helpful if I knew something about the master, but unfortunately this is not a question within the scope of the inquiry.No, I must adjust my mood, I must feel that there is nothing unusual in taking my father's place, so that I can convince others. The invitation is in my pocket, there is a typo there.Monsieur Earl seldom offered invitations, it was the king who gave orders to his subjects. King of his old castle, I think.Earl Teratell asked Lawson to go to Gaillard Castle to complete the restoration of the painting as agreed.Well, I'm Dallas Lawson.If the invitation had been addressed to Danny Lawson, my answer would be that Danny Lawson died ten months ago, and I, his daughter, who assisted him in the past, have come to carry out his will. My father had corresponded with the Earl about three years ago, and he had heard of my father's work.My father was an authority on ancient buildings and paintings. Maybe in this environment, I grew up with respect for these things and finally became a kind of love.My father encouraged me to develop this, and we spent weeks together visiting Florence, Rome, Paris, doing nothing but admiring the art treasures, and in London whenever I could, I was in galleries. I had a mum who wasn't very strong and a dad who was always at work, and I was in my own world.We rarely saw people, and I never got into the habit of making friends easily.I feel that not being pretty is a flaw, and I often try to cover it up, developing an attitude that is unattractive and overly dignified.However, I longed to share experiences with others, I longed for friends, and I was very passionate about other things that were far more exciting than what happened to me.I would be absorbed in listening to things that were not meant for me, and I would sit in the kitchen and listen while our two servants, the older and the younger, talked about their illnesses and their loves.When shopping with my mother, I would stand still and listen to the conversations of the people in the store.When visitors visited, I was often found to be in what my father called "overhearing," a habit he always disapproved of. But soon after entering art school, I began to live real life firsthand, not through my ears.But my father was still not satisfied because I fell in love with a young student.I still vividly remember those romantic moments of spring, when we strolled through St. James's Green, listened to lectures on marble buildings, and then walked along Kimpansing to Kensington Gardens.I can never go back to old places without memories, so I will never go again as long as I can restrain myself.My father forbade us because Charles had no money.Besides, my mother became more needy of me at that point. Without any great separation scene, the love affair, which thrives with spring and youth, disappears with autumn that follows. Maybe my father thought it would be better if I didn't have the opportunity to meet other people, so he suggested that I leave art school and work with him.He said he could teach me far more than school, which goes without saying, but while I learned a lot from him, I also lost the opportunity to meet people my age and live my own life.I divided my time between working with my father and caring for my mother. When my mother died, I was overwhelmed by grief for a long time. After I recovered a little, I realized that I was no longer young.I convinced myself long ago that I was not attractive to men, and I turned my longing for love and marriage into a passion for painting. "This job is for you," my dad used to say, "you want to fix anything." I understood what he was referring to. I had wanted to make Charles a great painter when he wanted to be a carefree student. Maybe that's why I lost him.I used to try to restore my mother's old vigor and interest in life by nagging her to get rid of her laziness.I never try to change my father, it is impossible, I understand that my strength is inherited from him, and at that time, he was stronger than me. I remember the day when the first letter came from Gaillard Castle, Mr. Earl Teratell had a gallery of paintings to take care of, and he wanted to ask some questions about the restoration of the castle.Would Mr. Lawson visit Gaillard Castle, assess whether it was necessary work, arrange satisfactory working hours, and return until the work was completed? My father was delighted: "I'll send you there if possible." He told me, "The paintings depend on your help, you'll like that place, it belongs to the fifteenth century, I'm sure there are many originals there, it must be fascinating. " I was excited, partly because I had been longing to live in a chateau in France for a few months, and partly because my father had started to adopt my vision for painting.However, a letter came from the Earl postponing the invitation, "to make a visit inconvenient at present," he wrote, without further specifying that he might be in touch later. About two years after receiving this letter, my father died suddenly of a stroke.I was terrified when I realized I was alone.I felt unaccompanied, alone and flustered, and besides, I was practically broke.I'm used to being my father's assistant at work, and while people have accepted me as his assistant and don't doubt my abilities, I can't help wondering where I'm going from here.How would others feel if I set up my own family? I discussed the matter with Anne, our old servant, who had been with us for many years and was going to live with a married sister.She thought there were only two things I could do, I could be a governess, as many women are, or be a companion. "I hate both jobs," I told her. "Beggars have no choice, Miss Dylas. There are many young ladies, with an education like yours, who are compelled to do so after the death of a loved one." "There was a job I did with my father." She nodded, but I knew she was thinking that no one would hire a young lady to do the job my father did.It doesn't matter that I can do it, I'm a woman, so no one believes I can do a good job. Anne was still living with me when the invitation came, and the Earl of Terratel was now preparing to invite Mr. Lawson to work. "Anyway, I'm Mr. Lawson," I told Annie, "and I can restore paintings like a father. I can't see any reason why I can't go" "I can find it," said Anne gravely. "It's a challenge. If you don't go, the only way to do it is to teach painting. My father's lawyer has told me that I urgently need to earn money to make ends meet. Imagine teaching children who have no talent and don't want to learn painting, or wasting time in a fussy damn old woman in everything I do." "You must accept reality, Miss Daras." "It's come, and that's exactly what I want to do." "It's not right. Others won't like it. It's okay for your father to do it or follow your father to do it. You can't go by yourself." "I did the work for him when he died? At Mornington Towers, you remember." "Well, that's what he started, but to France...a foreign country...a young lady...alone!" "You can't think of me as a young lady, Anne. I'm a painting restorer, and that's very different." "Well, I hope you don't forget that you're like any other young lady. And you can't go, Miss Thalass, it's not right, I know, it's not good for you." "Not good? In that respect?" "No... that's great, which man wants to marry a young lady who has gone overseas alone?" "I'm not looking for a husband, Anne, I'm looking for a job. And let me tell you, my mother went to England with her sister at my age to live with her aunt, and the girls even went to the theater alone. , imagine my mother telling me she's done something more daring, that she's been to a political meeting in the basement of Court Street, and in fact that's where she met her father. So Lo, if she's not daring, Risk, and she won't meet her husband, at least not this one." "You always use strong words. I watched you grow up, but I still said: This is wrong, and I will never change it." But, I told myself it must be good.So after much consideration and fear, I decided to accept the challenge and head to Gaillard Castle. We drove across the drawbridge, and I begged myself not to be driven back as I gazed at the ancient walls covered with ivy and moss supported by huge buttresses, and as I gazed at the round tower from roof to spire .We crossed the archway into the cobblestone garden with grass, and I was overwhelmed by the tranquility around me.In the center of the garden is a well with balustrades, stone columns and domes.On one side of the house a few steps lead down to a hallway, and I see the words TERATEL carved around a door. Joseph took out my suitcase, put it by the door, and shouted, "Jenny." A maid appeared and I noticed the surprise in her eyes when she saw me.Joseph told her that I was Miss Lawson and that I would be taken to the library and told to arrive and my luggage would be delivered to my room later. I was so excited, looking forward to entering the old castle, and feeling uneasy at the same time.I followed Jenny through the heavy studded door and into the hall, where the stone walls were richly decorated with tapestries and weapons.I soon noticed that one or two pieces of furniture were of the Regency style, including a richly carved and gilded wood table, with its detailed lattice work, which was so popular in France in the early eighteenth century.Those tapestries are extremely beautiful and belong to the same inclusive style as the furniture, with Boucher-style graphics.It was so good that my urge to stop and look almost outweighed my fear.However, we were out of the hall and up a flight of stone steps. Jenny raised a corner of the heavy curtain, and I was standing on the thick carpet that was so different from the stone steps.I was standing in a short, dark corridor, and on the other side was a door, which opened to reveal the library. "Miss, please wait a moment..." I nodded slightly, and the door closed, leaving me alone. The room is high with beautiful frescoes on the ceiling.I know there are many treasures in this place, and I cannot bear to be turned away.There are many books in leather covers on the four walls.Several beast heads guard fiercely. This earl must be a great hunter, I thought, and began to picture him relentlessly pursuing his prey. A clock bearing Cupid's head stands over the fireplace, flanked by a pair of detailed Sevres vases, and the chairs are upholstered with felt balls and their backs decorated with floral scrollwork. While I was deeply moved by these treasures, I was too apprehensive to fully appreciate them.I thought about the interview I was about to have with the dreaded count, and kept rehearsing what I would tell him.I must not lose my dignity, I must remain calm and never be too eager.I have to hide the fact that I am eager to work here so that I can successfully get further assignments.I'm sure my future depends on the next few minutes, and how I perform. I heard Joseph's voice, "In the library, sir..." Footsteps, I must face him now, and I go to the hearth, which is piled with logs but has no fire.I looked at the painting on the Louis XV clock without actually seeing it.My heart was beating fast, and I clasped my hands as the door opened, trying to keep them from shaking.I pretended not to notice the door to give me a few seconds to catch my breath and calm down. After a short silence, a cold voice said: "It's really unusual." I'm tall, he's about an inch taller, those dark eyes are full of doubt for a moment, but they look like they could be warmer.His long hooked nose was haughty, but his full lips were not grim, his riding clothes were elegant, a little too elegant, his cravat was magnificent, and he wore a golden gold crown on each little finger of his hand. ring.His appearance is very pleasing, but I am inexplicably disappointed. This person seems to have some sympathy for me, and he is different from the count I imagined. "Hello." I said. He took a few steps forward, he was younger than I thought, maybe a year older than me, or the same age as me. "No doubt," he said, "you must have a good explanation." "Of course, I'm here to restore paintings that need attention." "We know Mr. Lawson will be here today." "This is impossible." "You mean he'll come later." "He passed away a few months ago and I am his daughter to carry on his legacy." He looked nervous. "Miss Lawson, these paintings are of great value..." "If not, I really don't need to fix it." "We have to let the experts handle it," he said. "I'm an expert, my father recommended me and I worked with him. In fact, restoration of ancient buildings is his specialty, and painting is mine." I thought, that's the end of it.He must be very distressed to be in such an unpleasant situation, and he will definitely not let me stay. I made a final struggle: "Since you have heard of my father, it means that you have also heard of me, and we work together." "You didn't explain beforehand..." "I believe the situation is urgent and I think it would be wise to honor the invitation without delay. If my father had accepted the post, I would have come with him and we have been working together." "Sit down, please!" he said. I sat on a chair with a carved log on the back, which made me have to straighten my back.He chose a couch and stretched his feet forward. "Have you ever thought, Miss Lawson," he said slowly, "that if you told us your father was dead, we would deny you service?" “I believe your refusal is based on the need for restoration of the painting, on the importance of the work, not on the gender of the restorer.” The arrogance reappeared, a symptom of my anxiety.I'm sure he's going to tell me to go, but I'm going to fight for it again, knowing that only if I get the job will I have a chance to show what I can do. Frowning to make a decision, he looked at me darkly and said with a slightly dark smile, "It's strange that he didn't write to tell us..." I stood up, solemnly. He stood up, and as I walked proudly towards the door, I felt more miserable than ever. "Wait a minute, miss!" he spoke first, which seemed to me a small victory. I didn't turn around, I turned around. "There is only one train that leaves our town every day, at nine o'clock in the morning. You have to drive ten kilometers to catch the mainline train to Paris." "Oh!" I let panic show on my face. "You see," he went on, "you got yourself into trouble." "I didn't expect my qualifications to be rejected without verification. I have never worked in France and I was not prepared to be treated like this." It was a beautiful blow, and he responded, "Miss, I assure you , you will be treated with the same courtesy in France as anywhere." I shrugged, "I think there should be a restaurant or hotel here, can you stay overnight?" "This is absolutely impossible, we can entertain you." "It's very kind of you," I said coldly, "but in this case..." "You're referring to the seniority issue." "I have letters of recommendation from people who are happy with my work...they're in England. I've worked on important buildings and been commissioned to deal with classics. But you're not interested." "It's not true, Miss, I'm very interested. Anything related to this old castle is what I care about most." When he spoke, his face changed, because of the high degree of enthusiasm - the old house. Love, and shine.I looked at him enthusiastically, and if this place were my home, I would feel the same way he did.He continued eagerly: "You must admit, I have to adjust my surprise. I was expecting an experienced man, but here came a young lady..." "I'm not young anymore, I assure you." He didn't take the trouble to deny this, and his mind was still occupied with some thoughts—his feelings for the castle, his undecided whether to allow me, a man of doubtful technology, to have access to his masterpieces. "Perhaps you can let me know your qualifications." I walked back to the table, took a bundle of letters from the inside pocket of my cloak, and handed him.He motioned for me to sit down, and he sat down too, and began to read the letter. My hands were folded in my lap and clasped tightly. A moment ago I thought I had failed, but now I'm not so sure. I sneaked a peek at him, pretending to study the room, as he tried to make up his mind.It amazed me that I imagined the Earl as a man who seldom hesitated, who was decisive, absolutely tactful, and convinced that he was always right. "Impressive," he said as he handed the letter back. He looked at me for a few seconds, then said more hesitantly, "I guess you might want to see those paintings." "If I can't fix them, there doesn't seem to be a need." "Perhaps you can, Miss Lawson." "You mean..." "I mean, you've got to stay here at least one night. You're very tired from your long journey, I daresay. You're an expert," he glanced at the letter in my hand, "to be highly praised by such a distinguished man. I am sure you will at least want to see these paintings, which have been collected over the centuries. I assure you, this collection is definitely worth your attention." "I'm sure of that, but I think I should go to the hotel." "I don't suggest you go." "Oh?" "It's small and the food isn't the best. You'll be much more comfortable in the old castle, I promise." "I don't want to put myself in trouble." "Of course you won't. I insist you stay here. Please allow me to ask the maid to show you to your room. It's ready, you know, though we don't know it's for ladies. It's none of your business, though. The maid will bring some food to your room, and then I suggest you take a rest, and then you must go and see the paintings." "So you're saying I can take the job, and that's why I'm here." "You can make a suggestion first, can you?" I felt so relieved and changed my perception of him.The unhappiness of the previous moment turned into joy. "I will do my best, Monsieur Earl." "You have misunderstood, miss, I am not Earl Tyratere." I couldn't restrain my surprise, "Then you are..." "Philippe Terratel, the Count's cousin. So, you know, I'm not the one you should beg, but the Count Terratel, to decide whether he should trust you to let you restore his paintings. I Guaranteed that if it were my decision, I would definitely ask you to start working immediately without delay." "When can I see the Count?" "He's not at the castle, and probably won't be there for a few days. I suggest you stay here until he returns. In the meantime, you can examine the paintings and assess those that need attention before he returns." "A few days!" I said in panic. "I'm afraid so." As he walked towards the bell, I was thinking: This is a respite, at least I can stay in the castle for a few days. I guess my room is close to the sturdiest main building of the castle, and the balcony of the window is big enough to put a stone bench on each side, but it makes the opening narrower.I can only see out on tiptoe, the moss below me, the trees and the vineyard beyond.I felt very happy, and although my future was uncertain, I could not restrain myself from admiring the house and its treasures.The same is true for my father. The most important thing in his life is the ancient monument; the painting occupies the second place.For me, paintings are the first life, but I still inherited some of his love for architecture. Even in the morning, my high room was full of shadows, because the slanted windows cut out the light.Although I had expected it, I was still amazed by the thickness of the walls, which covered almost one wall with giant tapestries in darkened shades of peacock blue, which were in fact peacocks—peacocks by the garden fountain, columns Columns, reclining women, and fashionable gentlemen are clearly sixteenth-century works.There was a canopy on the bed, and a curtain behind it, and when I drew it back, I found a passage behind it, leading to an alcove, which was as large as a small room, and contained a cupboard, a tub, and a dressing table with a mirror, I glanced at myself and suddenly smiled. Yes, I look really competent, almost scary.I was covered in travel dust, my hat was worn too far back for what it should have been, and my hair—long, thick, and straight, my only virtue—was completely hidden. The maid brought hot water and asked if I would like cold chicken and a bottle of local wine, which I told her was to my liking.I was delighted when she left, because her apparent curiosity and excitement at my presence reminded me of something careless. I took off the cloak and the deformed hat, then removed the pins and let the hair fall over my shoulders.How different I look now, not only younger but also more sensitive.Now I'm the freaked out girl behind that fake confident woman.Appearance is important, I must remember.I am very proud of my hair, it is dark brown, but the addition of maroon gives it a reddish sheen in the sun. I wash my whole body in the tub and feel refreshed.Then I put on a linen shirt, a gray merino skirt, and a matching cashmere blouse.The blouse buttoned up to my neck, and I was sure I'd be mistaken for a woman of thirty in it, which of course was when I combed my hair.I don't like this gray color because I like all kinds of colors.I intuitively knew that some shade of blue, green, red or violet would add character to this gray dress, but as much as I love mixing colors to create beauty, I definitely didn't want to experiment with my own clothes.The light coat I wear to work is dun, plain and simple like my father's, which I actually wear, and it fits well, though a little too big. While I was buttoning my blouse, there was a knock at the door, and I glanced at myself in the mirror on the dressing table: my cheeks were a little red, my hair fell to my waist and fell over my shoulders like a cape , I definitely don't look like the strong woman who should be in this room. "Who is it?" I called. "Miss, your plate." The maid came in.I pull my hair back with one hand and raise the curtain a little with the other. "Put it here, please." She put it down and walked out, and I realized how hungry I was, so I came out to inspect the dinner plate, there was a chicken foot, a freshly baked crusty roll, butter, cheese and a bottle of wine.I sat down and ate it and it was delicious.The locally produced wine is made from grapes grown within the view of the castle.Food and alcohol made me drowsy, perhaps more of the latter.Anyway, I'm tired.I traveled day and night the night before, and I only slept for a while the night before, and I hardly ate anything. I feel sleepy coming over me, I'm going to stay in the castle for a while anyway, I'm going to visit the treasures here, I remember being in the mansion with my father, I remember when I was faced with rare art The excitement at the time of the work, the enthusiasm for understanding and admiration seems to share the joy of the creator.I'm sure similar experiences are waiting for me in the castle...if I can stay and enjoy them. I closed my eyes and felt the shake of the train.I think about life inside the castle, and life outside the castle.The farmer is tending the grapes, proud of the harvest.I don't know if the peasant woman's child was born, is it a boy?I don't know what the earl's cousin thinks of me?Or has he already forgotten me?I went to sleep and dreamed that I was in a gallery cleaning a picture that had never been brighter in color—emerald green against gray...scarlet against gold. "Miss……" I get out of my chair and for a moment forget where I am.A woman stood in front of me—thin and small, her eyebrows were knit together, and she looked a little uneasy.Her golden sand hair was voluminous in curls and bangs to hide its thinning.Restless gray eyes studied me from under a frown.She was wearing a white blouse with pink sauteed knots and a dark blue skirt, her hands clutching the pink bow at her throat nervously. "I fell asleep," I said. "You must be very tired, Mr. Teratell suggested that I take you to the gallery, but maybe you want to sleep a little longer." "Oh no, no, what time is it?" I looked at the gold watch, which had belonged to my mother, and pinned it to my blouse.As I did this, I felt my hair fall to my shoulders and I blushed a little.我匆匆把头发往后拉，“我一定累得睡着了，我整晚旅行。” “当然，我等一会儿再来！” “你真好，请告诉我你是谁好吗？你知道我是劳森小姐，从英国来的，要去，嗯……” “是的，我知道，我们以为是位男士，我是杜布依小姐，家庭教师。” “噢……我不知道……”我停住了，为什么我该对这幢屋子里谁是谁有概念？我的头发飘散在背后使我有点难为情，它让我出现了从来没有的口吃，我得装扮出平日的严肃样子。 “也许你希望我半小时后再来？” “给我十分钟，让我可以见人，那样我会很高兴接受你的邀请的，杜布依小姐。” 她松开眉头，不确定的笑着。她一离开，我立刻进入浴室。看着自己。什么样子，我想。我的脸发红，双眼发亮，头发如此杂乱。我抓住头发将它们紧紧拉在脑后，然后把它们编成辫子，盘成一个髻，用发针紧紧固定在头顶。这个样子，让我看起来更高了。两颊上的红润已消失，我的双眼现在是暗灰色，它们就像一潭水，反射我衣服的颜色，正如天空会改变海水的颜色。基于这个原因，我应该穿绿色或蓝色，可是我告诉自己，我的资产并非凭借个人的吸引力，若是要赢得雇主的信心，我得表现得像一个明智的女人。我将灰暗的色彩视为养成自己多刺的外表的一部分，我相信它们是一个女人独自与世界搏斗的武器，现在我的嘴已形成我试着采用的坚定线条，在杜布依小姐回来前，我已经准备好照我熟悉的规则行事。 她看到我时吃了一惊，所以我知道我一开始给她一个多坏的印象。她的眼睛看着我的头顶，我感到一丝满意，现在没有一丝头发不整齐，它们整洁、严肃，正是我喜欢的。 “很抱歉，打扰了你，”这个女人太多礼了，那个小事件已经过去了，我睡着了，没听到敲门声，是我的错。我告诉她说：“所以泰柏泰尔先生已经告诉你带我去画廊，我非常想看那些图画。” “我对绘画所知有限，不过……” “你说你是家庭教师，所以古堡里一定有孩子罗。” “只有吉娜薇薇，伯爵先生只有一个孩子。” 我的好奇心很强，但是不能问问题。她虽然想谈，却有些犹豫。我是多么想知道啊！不过，我要求自己不要。随着时光过去，我变的越来越乐观。短暂的休息和那些食物真是太棒了，清洗和更衣使我大大不同。 她叹息道：“吉娜薇薇很难缠。” “孩子们通常都是如此，她多大了？” "fourteen." “那么我相信你可以轻易的控制她。” 她给我一个疑惑的表情，然后她的嘴微微扭曲：“这就是证据，劳森小姐，你不认识吉娜薇薇。” “溺爱！我想，身为唯一的孩子。” “溺爱！”她加强了语调，是害怕？忧虑？我分辨不出来，“噢，那个……也有吧。” 她很软弱，这是非常明显的，她是我最不可能选择的家庭教师。如果他们选了这个女人担任这样一个职务，可以确信我得到修复古画的机会一定很大。虽然我也是一个女人，我一定会找一个能力比这个可怜的小东西强多了的人。伯爵先生会不会觉得女儿的教育和修复古画一样重要呢？当然这得等着以后才知道，我迫不及待的想和这个人会面。 “我可以告诉你，劳森小姐，控制这个女孩是不可能的。” “也许是因为你不够坚持吧。”我轻轻地说，然后改变话题：“这个地方真大，我们接近画廊了吗？” “我会告诉你的，一开始很容易迷路，我就是这样，即使现在也还有困难。” 我想，你永远都会发现自己有困难。 “我猜你来这儿有一阵子了吧？”我问道，仅仅是为了在我们通过房间沿着走廊步上阶梯时有话好说。 “很久了……八个月。” 我笑了，“你称这个叫久？” “别人没有待过这么久，没人超过六个月。” 我的心思由支柱的雕花转移到屋主的女儿。所以这就是杜布依小姐能被留用的原因，吉娜薇薇如此娇纵所以很难留住家庭教师。有人或许会认为坚强的古堡之王可以控制他的女儿，但是也许他不够关心吧。而伯爵夫人呢？很奇怪，在杜布依小姐提到这个女儿之前，我没有想过还有一位伯爵夫人。既然有小孩，当然该有一位夫人。她现在也许正和伯爵先生在一起，这就是为何由堂弟接见我的原因。 “实际上，”她继续道：“我一直告诉自己应该离开，麻烦的是……” 她没说完，其实也没必要，我很了解这种状况。她能去那儿？我想像她住在荒凉的寄宿公寓中或者她有一个家…但是无论如何，她都得自己谋生。有许多这类的例子——绝望的以骄傲与尊严交换食物和遮蔽。噢，是的，我全然了解，不可能再明白了，因为它可能是我预知的命运。这温和的女人，无所凭藉。有什么是比有教养的贫穷更难忍受的？被视为名门闺秀下教养长大，受的教育和你将服侍的人一样好，甚至更好。不断自觉到处于何种地位，既不活在阶下仆的低俗味道中，又得不到这个家庭的关心，处于被遗忘的状态下。噢，这是多么难忍，又多不可避免。可怜的杜布依小姐，她唤起了我的自怜与恐惧。 “任何的工作都有缺点。”我安慰她。 “噢，是的，是真的，而且这边特别多……” “古堡像是一座宝库。” “我相信那些画值一大笔钱。” “我听说的，也是这样。”我的声音很温暖。我将一只手伸出摸摸我们正通过的房间的麻质壁板，好华丽的地方，我想。不过这种老建筑需要持续的照料，我们通过了一间大房间，这种房间，在英国被称为日光浴室，因为它有意的采集光线。我停下检视墙上武器的外观，墙非常的新，我怀疑在石灰油漆下，也许有壁画，我想这极有可能。我记得当父亲有一次发现一些被湮没几世纪价值非常的壁画时，有多兴奋。如果我也能有这种发现，是何种的胜利！当然个人的胜利是次要的，我会如此想是因为我有幸参与其中。其实这是艺术的胜利，就如其它的发现一般。 “伯爵先生无疑的，以它们为荣。” "I... I don't know." “他一定是的，无论如何他够关心，想要检视是否要修复它们。艺术珍宝是人类共同的遗产。拥有它们是一种殊遇，一个人该记住，艺术……伟大的艺术，不属于任何个人。” 我停下了，我又提起我最爱反覆谈论的话题，正如父亲所说“那些有兴趣的人，或许会分享你的知识；反之，则会觉得无聊。”他是对的，杜布依小姐正属于后者。 她笑了，小小的轻笑声中没有快乐或喜悦在其中，“我从不期望，伯爵先生对我表现他的感觉。”不会的，我想。即使我也不会这么做。 “噢，亲爱的，”她喃喃道，“我希望没有迷路，噢，不……就在这里。” “我们现在大概在古堡中央，”我说，“这是原始的结构，我敢说，我们很快就会到圆塔下。” 她不可置信的看着我。 “我父亲的专业是修复老房子，”我解释，“我从他那儿学了很多。事实上，我们一起工作。” 她似乎有一刻要对着我生气，那和她的特质完全相反。她近似严厉的说：“我知道大家期待的是男士。” “他们预期是我父亲，他大约三年前正要起程，然后因为某种因素邀约取消了。” “三年以前，”她茫然地说，“那应该是……” 我等着，当她不再继续，我说，“那是你来之前，是吗？我父亲正要启程，却断然的被告知不容成行。他大约一年前去世，我继续工作且表现杰出，自然的，由我代他前来。” 她看着我好像这个过程大大不寻常，而我悄悄同意她的想法。可是我无意在她面前背叛自己，一如她在我面前背叛自己。 “就一个英国女人而言，你的法文说的很好。” “我是双声带，我母亲是法国人，父亲是英国人。” “真幸运……在此情境中。” “在任何情境中能精熟语言都很幸运。” 我母亲说我太爱教诲别人，这是一项我该抑制的特性，我想自父亲死后这特质又增添几分。他曾经告诉我，我像一艘升火待发的船舰，展示武器以自我防卫，好似随时有人准备攻击我似的。 “你当然是对的，”杜布依小姐温驯的说，“这就是画廊，画在这儿。” 接着，我忘记了她，我在一间长形由窗子采光的房间里，在墙上……是图画！即使受到忽视，它们依然很耀眼，只看一眼就足以让我了解它们价值非凡。这是顶尖的法国派作品，我认出普珊和洛林的画作并排着，前所未有的被一个冷静的规律及另一个浓烈的戏剧性震慑。我沉迷在洛林风景画的纯净金色光芒中，想对身旁的女人指出画中的光线及羽毛式的笔触可能习自于提善，以及深色颜料如何运用在丰富的色彩上，以产生美妙的光影效果。那有一张华亭的作品，如此细致奇特和轻淡柔和……并传达出暴风雨将至的气氛。我快步走到布丘的早期画作前，那是他拒绝列入弗格纳色情派之前，属于洛可可派的完美示范。 接着，我觉得愤怒，因为它们全都需要立即的照顾。它们岂能容许变成这种状态。我所见的，部分已严重变暗，有些覆上一层暗雾，我们称之为“开花”，一些则有刮痕及水渍，蚊虫留下的棕酸仍清晰可见，在某些地方画已剥落，有些个别的灼烧，好似有人把蜡烛拿得太近造成的。 我静静的从一幅画移到另一幅画，忘记了其它的事，目前为止我所看到的修复工作至少得做上一年，也许还不止，因为通常开始进一步检查后会发现更多。 “你发现它们很有趣。”杜布依小姐索然无味的问。 “我发现它们趣味无穷，而且当然需要照料。” “那么我猜你会马上开始工作。” 我转过去看着她，“毫无疑问的我该做这件事，我是个女人，你知道的？所以被认为没有能力。” “这对女人来说不是个寻常的工作。” “它确实不是。如果一个人有天赋做这种工作，性别与此无关。” 她笑了，是那种傻笑：“但是这儿有所谓男人做的工作和女人做的工作。” “有男家庭教师和女家庭教师，不是吗？”我希望我讲得够清楚了，藉由改变话题，我不想再继续这种无主题的对话，“这全看伯爵的意见，如果他是个有偏见的男人……” 不远外一个声音叫道：“我想见她，我告诉你拉诺，我要见她。那个废物已经被叫去带领她参观画廊。” 我看着杜布依小姐，废物！碎片！我了解这暗示，她一定常听自己被如此称呼。 一阵低声抚慰，然后，“我们走，拉诺，你这愚笨的老女人，你以为你可以制止我？” 画廊的门被摔开；那个女孩，我一眼就认出是吉娜薇薇·泰拉泰尔，站在那儿，她的头发松开了，几乎披头散发。她美丽的眼睛闪耀着愉悦，她穿着一件蓝长袍，使她的外表更晦暗。即使我没被警告过，也会立刻知道她是无法管束的。 她瞪着我，我也回看她，接着她用英文说：“午安，小姐。” “午安，小姐。”我改用同样的语调回答，她觉得很有趣地走进房里。我注意到一位灰发女人在她后面，很明显的，她是奶妈拉诺。我猜她从婴儿期开始就带她，而且帮着娇纵她。 “所以，你是从英国来的，”这个女孩说，“他们预期是个男人。” “他们预期是我父亲，我们一起工作，因为他已去世，无法前来，所以我来此完成他的职务。” “我不明白。”她说。 “我们说法文好吗？”我用她的语言问。 “不！”蛮横的回答，“我的英文说得很好，”她说：“我是泰拉泰尔小姐。” “我早知道了。”我转向那位老妇，笑着问好。 “我发现这些图画极有趣，”我对她和杜布依小姐说，“可是，很明显的，它们被忽视了。” 除了这女孩，没人回答。因为气愤受到忽视，她粗鲁的说：“那与你无关，因为你不会被允许待在这儿。” “安静，亲爱的。”拉诺耳语道。 “除非我想，我才不会安静呢。等我父亲回来再说吧！” “现在，吉娜薇薇……”奶妈不安的眼睛看着我，为她的管教不当向我道歉。 “你等着瞧，”女孩对我说：“或许你以为自己可以留下，可是我父亲……” “如果，”我说，“你父亲举止像你这般，世界上没有任何人可以劝我留下。” “请用英文对我说话，小姐。” “当你表现此种态度时，看来好似忘记这种语言了。” 她突然开始大笑，挣脱奶妈的掌握，跑向我。 “我猜你一定觉得我很不和善。”她说。 “我根本没有在想你。” “那么，你在想什么？” “这些图画。” “你是说，它们比我有趣？” “绝对。”我回答。 她不知该如何回答，她耸耸肩，转身离开我，用愤怒的声音低声说：“嗯，我看过她了，她不漂亮，很老。”她昂着头，急急忙忙走出房间。 “你一定要原谅她，小姐，”那老奶妈喃喃道，“她心情不好，我想带走她，我怕她干扰你了。” “一点也不会，”我回答，“很幸运的……她与我无关。” “拉诺，”女孩叫道，像以往一般的蛮横，“立刻过来。” 奶妈出去了，我抬起眉毛，看着杜布依小姐。 “她心情不好，没人控制得了，我很抱歉……” “我为你和奶妈难过。” 她活泼起来：“学生有时很难缠，但是我从没有遇见这么……”她偷偷看着门，我怀疑吉娜薇薇是否把窃听也加进她迷人的性格里。可怜的女人，我想道。我不想增添她的困扰，去告诉她忍受这种遭遇真是愚笨。我说：“如果你愿意留我在这儿，我将开始检查这些图画。” “你认为你可以自己找到路回房间吗？” “我相信我能，我们一路走，我一路仔细地作笔记，请记住，我习惯老房子。” “嗯，那么，我要离开了。若是你有任何需要，请随时拉铃。” “谢谢你的协助。” 她无声的走出去，我转向图画，可是我太混乱以致于无法认真工作。这是一个奇怪的家族，这个女儿简直无法无天。who is the next?是伯爵先生和夫人？他们全是什么德行？这个女孩无礼、自私、残酷，光和她相处五分钟就足够发现一切而惊慌失措。是什么样的环境和养育方式，才会产生这样一个怪胎？ 我看着墙上那些受到忽略的无价画作，在那几分钟我想到：或许最明智的事，就是明早马上就走。我将向泰拉泰尔先生道歉，承认我不该来，并离去。 我想逃离一种命运——当我遇见杜布依小姐后（碎片、可怜的东西）就可以预料了——一种可怕的命运。我曾如此拚命的想继续我热爱的工作，因此我在欺瞒下来此，却让自己遭受屈辱。 我是如此坚定的说服自己我必须走，我几乎相信是某种直觉警告后必须如此做。在这种情况下，我不再让自己进一步检查这些画，我将回到她们给我的房间，试着去休息，以准备迎接明天要展开的漫长回程。 我走向门，当我旋转门把时，它竟然不动。太古怪了，在那几秒，我感到一阵真正的慌乱。我把自己想像成一个囚犯，想逃却逃不出去，然后我感到每一面墙都向我靠近。 我的手瘫软在门把上，接着门开了。菲利浦·泰拉泰尔站在外边，现在我知道为什么我打不开门，因为他正要进来。 我想，或许他们不信任我留在此地，也许总要有人跟着我以防我偷窃。我知道这种想法很荒谬，和我平日的逻辑不太一样。不过过去两晚我只睡了一点点，而且又太过担心我的未来，所以我可以理解，为何我不像平日的我。 “你正要离开，小姐。” “我正要回房间，我似乎没有留下的必要。我已经决定明天离开，我谢谢你的热心款待，很抱歉给你添麻烦，我不该来的。” 他扬起眉毛：“你改变心意了？是不是因为你觉得这些修复工作超过你的能力？” 我生气地涨红了脸，“绝不是！”我说：“这些图画被严重的忽视……恶意的忽视……从一个艺术家的观点就是如此，不过，我要修复的将比这个还糟。我只是觉得我的出现惹恼了这个地方，你最好找别人……跟你同性别的，因为这似乎对你很重要。” “亲爱的劳森小姐，”他用一种近似温和的语调说，“一切事都由我的堂兄，这些图画的所有者，这幢古堡的所有者决定，他在几天内会回来。” “可是，我觉得我该在早上走，我会给你一张清单回报你的款待，我会估计划廊中的一幅画需要那些修复，当你找到别人做这件事时，你会发现它很有用。” “我怕，”他说，“我的侄女曾冒犯你。若是我堂兄没见到你，一定会对我生气。你不必在意那个女孩，当她父亲不在时，她很难管教，他是她唯一害怕的人。” 我心中自语道：我相信你也怕他，我想见伯爵的念头和想修复那些画一样强。 “小姐，你会再留几天，至少听听我堂兄怎么说吗？” 我犹豫着，然后说：“很好，我会留下。” 他好像松了一口气。 “我现在要回房了，我发现我太累了，没办法好好工作。明天我会彻底检查画廊里的画，当你堂兄回来时，我会有一张清楚的清单给他。” “好极了！”他说，站到一边，让我过去。 第二天早晨天一亮，经过一夜好眠，我又回复兴致。我想要看看古堡的庭园，或许到附近逛逛。我想看小镇，因为老教堂吸引我，它和古堡同一时期。无疑的，市政厅也很古老。 昨晚我在房里吃晚饭，味道很棒，不久我上床立即入梦。现在，早晨带来了乐观气息。 我洗衣、穿衣，按铃叫早餐，热咖啡、家制硬皮面包还有奶油很快就送到，都很好吃。 我边吃边想昨天的事，它们不像前一晚那么奇怪了。我不知道这是怎样的一个宅第，目前为止我只知道它不寻常。这儿有位菲利浦堂兄，在伯爵先生和夫人不在时掌理一切；一个宠坏了的女孩，在她父亲不在时举止乖张，无疑的，她平日一定敬畏他；还有一位软弱无影响力的家庭教师，一位可怜的灰发拉诺，这位奶妈不比家庭教师有更大的控制力，此外还有马夫乔瑟夫以及无数的仆人，有男有女，照顾此种巨宅有此必要。在这个宅第中没有什么不寻常的事，可是我感觉到一份神秘感。是不是每一个人提到伯爵时的那种态度？他是那女孩唯一害怕的人，每个人都敬畏他，每件事都靠他决定，当然我是否留下也看他。 我出发到画廊，在那儿享受一个平静的早晨，我检查画作，详细记下每幅画受损的情形。这是一件别人的工作，我讶异于早晨过得如此快。我全神贯注忘记了这个宅第，当女仆来敲门，告知已是十二点时，我吃了一惊。她问我是否要把午餐送到房里。 我发现我饿了，我告诉她我同意。我收拾纸张回到房间。女仆端来美味的汤，接着是肉和沙拉，最后是起士和水果。我怀疑是否我在这儿待多久，就要在房中独自用餐多久——也就是如果伯爵先生同意留我也是如此。我开始有一个伯爵先生的形象出现，并且用一种轻视的语气叫他的名字，“别人也许怕你伯爵先生，不过你会发现我不怕。” 我常发现下午不是工作的好时机，何况我需要一些运动。当然，未经允许我不能在古堡中探险，不过我可以看看田野和庭园。 我毫无困难的走到乔瑟夫带我进来的那个庭园，不过我没有过吊桥，而是穿过连接主建筑及古堡后来增建部分的一条走廊，通往另一个庭园，来到古堡的南端。这里是花园，我残酷的想着，伯爵先生是否会忽略绘画却好好照料花园？很明显的，花园花费了许多心血。 在我前面有三层地毯，第一层是草地与喷泉，我想像着春季时百花盛放，即使是现在，秋季，还是五彩缤纷。我沿着石子路来到第二层地毯，那儿有各种形状的花圃草地，是装饰花园。每一块花圃都被箱形的灌木和紫杉隔开，整齐的修剪成各种形状，鸢尾是主要的植物。很典型，我想着，是伯爵式的。最下面一层是家庭菜圃，但即使是这儿都加以装饰，整齐的被切割成正方形和长方形。有些是以爬着藤蔓格子棚加以区隔，整块园地以果树围绕。 整个地方毫无人迹，我猜工人们都在午休，即使在一年中的这个时候，阳光还是很强。三点时他们会回来工作直到天黑。一定有许多人照料这儿，才能维持得这么好。 当我听到一个声音大叫：“小姐！小姐！”我正站在果树下，我转身，看到吉娜薇薇朝我跑来。 “我从窗子看到你。”她说。她把手放在我的手臂上指着古堡，“你看正上方的窗子……那是我的，那是育儿房的一部分。”她愁眉苦脸地说。她说英文，“我用心的去学，”她解释，“只是要告诉你我会说。让我们说法文吧。” 她现在看起来不一样了，冷静、祥和，可能有点顽皮，但是就像一个人期许的受过良好的教养的十四岁女孩，我明白我看到的是没有坏心情的吉娜薇薇。 “如果你喜欢的话。”我用那种语言答道。 “其实，我喜欢和你用英文交谈，不过正如你说的，我的英文不好，对吗？” “你的发音和语调让它变得混淆不清，我猜你有不少字汇。” “你是一位家庭教师吗？” "no." “那么你应该去当，你可以成为好老师。”她大笑道：“这样你就不会在误解下上任了，好吗？” 我冷冷地说：“我要去散步了，我要对你说再见了。” “噢，不，不要，我是下来和你谈话的。首先我要说抱歉，我太粗鲁了，是吗？而你又很冷峻……不过你必须如此，对吗？这是一般人对英国人的看法……” “我是半个法国人。”我说。 “你的精神是。我看得出你很生气。你的声音很冷静，内心却很愤怒，现在你是不是这样？” “我当然惊讶，像你这种显然受过教育的女孩，竟会对你父亲家的客人如此不礼貌。” “你不是客人，请记住。你是处于……” “没有继续这种对话的必要，我接受你的道歉，现在我要走了。” “可是我是特地下来找你说话的。” “可是我是来散步。” “为什么我们不能一起散步呢？” “我可没邀你陪我。” “那么，我父亲没邀你来盖拉德，对吗？可是你还是来了。”她紧接着说，“而我很高兴你来了……所以你也许会乐意我和你同行。” 她想要补偿，而我也没有必要表现得太拒人于千里之外