Chapter 66 Chapter 62: A Bright Light Shines on My Way

At the end of the year, Christmas is approaching, and I have been home for more than two months.I see Agnes often.Although people loudly encouraged me, although this encouragement stimulated my enthusiasm and energy, at the slightest compliment from her, other people's encouragement was almost silent to me. At least once a week I ride to her for an evening.I have often ridden home at night; for the unpleasant feeling still haunts me--I am so sad every time I leave her--so that I would rather get up and go away than indulge in sleeplessness or worry that tires me. in sleep.On those trips I used to spend a great part of the dreary nights on the road.As I walked, the thoughts that had occupied my mind during my sojourn abroad came back to me.

It might be more accurate to say that I heard the echoes of those thoughts.They speak to me from far away.I have pushed them away, and I am determined to take my rightful place.However, when I read to Agnes what I wrote, when I saw her attentive face as she listened, when I moved her to cry or laugh, when I heard her talk about the ideal world I lived in When I expressed my opinion so sincerely about the ethereal stories in the book, I thought about what my fate should have been—but I only thought about it, like I used to think about what my wife was going to be after I married Dora. It's good.

Agnes has a love for me, and if I mess it up, I have insulted it selfishly and clumsily, never to be recovered.My mature conviction is that now that I have made my life, and I have acquired what I want, I have no right to complain but to suffer; It was a mature faith that made me feel it all and understand it all.But I love her, and I vaguely feel that one day I will be able to confess my love to her without any regrets; at that time, everything at this time will be in the past; at that time, I can say: "Agnes, It was like that when I came home; now I'm old, and I haven't loved since!" It was a comfort to me to think that, too.

She never showed me any changes in her.She has always been that way in my eyes, and she is still the same now, completely unchanged. From the evening of my return there had been, between my aunt and myself, an understanding concerning this, which I cannot say was a restraint or a deliberate evasion of it.We all thought about it at the same time, but neither expressed it in words.This is what we often get into when we sit by our old habit at night by the fire; it's all so natural, so obvious, as if we've said it outright.But we continued to maintain that tacit understanding, silent.I'm sure she had read or somewhat understood my thoughts that night, and she had a good idea of ​​why I hadn't articulated my thoughts.

As Christmas was approaching, Agnes hadn't revealed her new secret to me, so I had doubts in my heart several times—I was afraid that she already knew my heart and would cause me pain, so I refused to say it out loud—this suspicion was repeated. Pressed on my heart.If this is the case, then I have made sacrifices in vain, and I have failed to fulfill the minimum responsibility to her, then I have actually continued to do what I had tried my best not to do.I resolved, then, to make this clear;—if there were any such barrier or hindrance between us, I would not hesitate to remove it. It was a harsh winter's day--what eternal reason should I not forget this day!It had snowed a few hours ago, and the snow was not yet deep enough to freeze hard on the ground.The sea outside my window is blowing a strong wind from the north.I thought of the gale that blew through the snow on the untouched Swiss mountains, and I compared that secluded place with the desolate sea, and wondered which would be more lonely.

"Going out for a ride today, Trol?" asked my aunt, poking her head through the door. "Yes," said I, "I'm going to Canterbury. It's a fine day for riding." "I hope your horse thinks so," said my aunt; "but now he's standing by the door with his head and ears down, as if he'd rather be in the stable." By the way, my aunt let my horse stay on the forbidden ground, but she didn't let the donkey relax at all. "It'll be refreshed after a while!" I said. "Anyway, this trip is good for its owner," said my aunt, looking at the manuscript on my desk. "Oh, boy, you have been sitting here for many hours! I never thought of writing a book when I was reading. It's Flirty."

"Sometimes reading is hard work," I said, taking it over, "and writing has its charms too, Auntie." "Ah! I see!" said my great-aunt. "Ambition, nice compliments, sympathy, and many others, I suppose? Hey, come on!" "About Agnes' love," I said calmly, standing in front of her.She patted me on the shoulder and sat down in my chair. "Do you have any more news?" "I think I do, Trol," she replied, looking up at me first. "Do you think the news is accurate?" I asked. "I think it's quite right, Tello."

She looked at me so unblinkingly, with doubts, pity, or concerns, I made up my mind and tried to look happy to her. "And, Tro—" "what?" "I believe Agnes is going to marry." "God bless her!" I said happily. "God bless her," said my aunt, "and her husband!" I immediately agreed, said goodbye to my aunt and grandma, walked downstairs gently, got on my horse and ran away.I have more reason than ever to do what I set my mind to do. How well I remember those winter rides!The ice chips blown by the wind from the grass brushed my face, the sound of horses’ hoofs on the frozen ground, the frozen cultivated land, the snow flakes that were stirred by the breeze and fell into the lime pit, stopped on the high ground. Panting cows and horses on the slopes with jingling bells and spraying hay; and the slopes and hills of the plateau whitening against the background of the dark sky as if painted on a huge slab of stone!

I found Agnes alone at home.The little girls were now back in their own homes, and she was reading by the fire by herself.Seeing me coming in, she put down her book, and after welcoming me as usual, she took her hand-woven basket and sat down in front of an old-fashioned window. I sat next to her on the windowsill.We talk about what I'm working on, when it's expected to be finished, and how it's been since my last visit.Agnes was delighted.She laughed and predicted that I would soon be too famous for her to talk to me like this anymore. "So I'm making the best of the time, you know," Agnes said, "talking to you while I can."

I watched her face, she was engrossed in the task at hand.She raised her gentle bright eyes and saw that I was looking at her. "You're thinking today, Trowood!" "Agnes, can I tell you what's on my mind? That's what I'm here for." She put down her sewing, as she always did when we had a serious discussion, and listened to me intently. "My dear Agnes, do you doubt my loyalty to you?" "No!" she replied with surprise. "Do you suspect that I don't treat you like I used to?" "No!" she replied as before. "When I come back, dearest Agnes, I want to tell you what kind of debt I owe you, what kind of enthusiasm I have for you, do you remember?"

"I remember," she said softly, "very well." "You have a secret," I said, "tell me, Agnes," and she lowered her eyes, trembling all over. "Even if I hadn't heard--not from you, Agnes, but from someone else, which seems strange--I wouldn't have been ignorant of someone to whom you gave That precious love. Do not hide from me that which is so closely connected with your happiness! If you will trust me as you say, and as I think, let me be in this matter that is more important than all. Be your friend, be your brother!" She stood up from the window with pleading (even reproach) in her eyes, ran to the other side of the room as if she didn’t know where she was going, covered her face with her hands and began to cry, my heart was tortured. But the tears awakened something in me, a certain hope.For some reason, those tears combined with the peaceful, sad smile buried deep in my memory, and shook me more with hope than with fear and sorrow. "Agnes! Sister! Dearest! What have I done wrong?" "Let me go, Trowood. I'm not very well, not at ease. I'll tell you slowly--I'll write to you later. But don't tell me now. Don't! Don't! " I tried to recall what she had said the night before when I had told her about her unrequited love.It seemed like a world I had to explore right away. "Agnes, I can't bear to see you like this, and it hurts me more to think that I have made you like this. My dearest girl, whom I value more than everything in life, if you are unhappy, let Let me share your unhappiness. If you need help or advice, let me try to give it to you. If your heart is burdened, let me try to lighten it. I am not living in this world for you, Agnes , and for whom?" "Oh, spare me! I'm not feeling well! Let's talk about it later!" was all I could hear. I wonder if it is a selfish mistaken emotion that drives me on?Now that there is a glimmer of hope, is there an opportunity that I never dared to look forward to? "I must go on. I can't let you leave me like this! For God's sake, Agnes, let's not misunderstand after all these years and what has happened! I must make it clear. If You have doubts, lest I be jealous of the happiness you have given, that I will not surrender you to a dearer protector of your own choice, that I will not admire your happiness from a distance, then you will be so Give up your thoughts. Because I’m not like that! I didn’t suffer in vain and lose my knowledge. Your teaching to me is not in vain. There is no selfishness in my feelings for you!” At this time, she calmed down.After a little while she turned her pale face to me, and said in a low, broken but distinct voice: "For the sake of your pure friendship to me, Trowood--I do not doubt your friendship--I cannot help but tell you: You are wrong. I can do nothing else. If I have sometimes needed help and Advice, I've got it. If I've been unhappy sometimes, it's past. If I've had a burden on my heart, it's been lightened. If I've got any secrets—it's not new, it's— It's not what you guessed. I can't tell it, and I can't share it with others. This secret has long belonged to me alone, and it will always belong to me alone." "Agnes! Stop! Wait!" As she was about to walk away, I stopped her.I put my arms around her waist. "These years!" "Not new!" New hopes, new ideas, whirling together in my head, all the colors of my life are changing! "Dearest Agnes! The man I greatly admire and respect--the man I love with so much heart! When I came here today, I thought I could never be so frank. I felt I could hide it all my life. My mind is not to confess until we are old. But, Agnes, if I have any hope of a new life, I may one day call you by a title that is closer to sister than sister!—” She burst into tears, but it was different from the tears she just shed.I saw my hope shining in her tears at this moment. "Agnes! My everlasting mentor, my best supporter! If you ever--when we grew up here together--could have cared a little more about yourself and less about me, I think my shallow fantasy Will never leave you. You are so much better than I am, though, and I feel you have been so important to me in all my early hopes and disappointments, that it has become part of my nature to trust you and depend on you in all things, so that My instinct to love you so much now has been pushed aside for a while, and it was a more important instinct!" She is still crying, but not sad, but happy!To be held in my arms, this has never happened to her, and I used to think that it would not be like this! "When I was in love with Dora -- madly in love with her, Agnes, you know --" "Yes!" she exclaimed sincerely, "I'm glad to know." "When I loved her—that was when my love was not complete without your sympathetic understanding. When I had your sympathetic understanding, my love was complete. When I lost her, Agnes , what would I be without you!" She clings closer to my bosom, draws closer to my heart; she puts her trembling hand on my shoulder, and tears glisten in her lovely eyes looking into mine. "Dear Agnes, I went abroad because I loved you. I stayed abroad because I loved you. I came back because I love you!" At this point, I told her as much as I could about the struggles I had had, the conclusions I had come to.I tried my best to reveal my thoughts to her as truthfully and completely as possible.I explained to her as best I could how I wished I knew her better and myself; Heart to her.If she loves me (I say), and accepts me as her husband, she does so not because of my worth, but because of the sincerity of my love for her, and the difficulties I faced when it matured; That's why I profess my love, O Agnes, even then, in your sincere eyes, the soul of my baby wife looked at me and approved of me; and because of you , I remembered the little flower that withered when it was in full bloom! "I am happy, Trowood—my heart is full—but there is one thing I must say." "Dearest, what is it?" She put her gentle hands on my shoulders and looked at my face calmly. "But, do you know what it is?" "I dare not guess what it is. Tell me, my dear." "I've always loved you!" Oh, we are happy, we are so happy!We don't weep for the pain we go through (she goes through worse), we weep only for the happiness that we will never be apart again! On that winter night, we went for a walk in the field together, and the cold air seemed to share the happiness and peace in our hearts.As we wandered, we looked up into the sky, and the first rising stars began to twinkle.We thank God for leading us to this peace. At night, in the moonlight, we stood together at the old-fashioned window; Agnes raised her calm eyes to the moon.I followed her gaze.At this time, a long road appeared in my heart, and I saw a child in rags, without food and clothing, walking forward.At last he called the heart that was beating beside mine now his own. When we came to my aunt and grandma, it was almost time for dinner the next day.She was upstairs in my study, said Peggotty, and it was her pride in keeping mine neat and tidy.We see her sitting by the fire with glasses on. "My God!" said my aunt, looking at her in the twilight, "who did you bring back?" "Agnes," I said. Since it was agreed not to say anything at first, my aunt and grandmother were not less embarrassed.When I said "Agnes", she looked at me hopefully, but seeing that I was still the same as usual, she took off her glasses in disappointment and wiped her nose with them. However, she greeted Agnes affectionately.Before long we were sitting down in the lighted parlour, having dinner.My aunt put on her glasses two or three times to look at me, and each time she took them off without disappointment, and then wiped the glasses on her nose.This situation disturbed Mr. Dick very much, and he knew it was a bad omen. "By the way, auntie," I said after dinner, "I told Agnes what you told me." "Then, Troy," said my aunt, blushing, "you're wronged and broken." "You won't be angry, Auntie, I believe? I believe you won't be when you hear that Agnes is not unhappy about anything in love." "Nonsense!" said my aunt. When my aunt is about to get annoyed, I think it's best to stop her irritability.So I put my arms around Agnes behind her chair, and we bent down to her together.My aunt glanced behind her glasses, clapped her hands, and became hysterical. This was the first and only time since I knew her. Peggotty was quite taken aback by the hysteria.When my aunt recovered, she threw herself upon Peggotty, calling her an old fool, and hugging her hard.Then she embraced Mr. Dick, much to the latter's astonishment and honour.Then she told them the reason, and they were all happy. The last time my aunt had a brief conversation with me, I didn't know whether she was lying with good intentions, or if she really misunderstood my feelings.She said she had told me that Agnes was getting married, and that was enough.'I now know better than anyone how true that is,' she said. We got married in two weeks.Only Traddles and Sophie, the Doctor and Mrs. Strong were present at our quiet wedding.In their joy, we left them and drove away.I hold in my arms all the precious fountains of hope that I have ever had; my center, my life, myself, my wife and my love for her, are all set on a rock! "Dearest husband!" said Agnes, "and now that I can call you by that title, I have one more thing to tell you." "Tell me, love!" "Dora sent you to me the night she died." "yes." "She told me she left me something. Can you guess what it is?" I believe I can.I hugged my wife who had loved me for so long a little tighter. "She told me that she made one last request to me and left me with one last responsibility." "That is--" "I have to come and take that vacant seat!" Then Agnes fell on my breast and wept; and I wept with her, though we were happy.