Chapter 52 Chapter 52

Philip hurried back to Blackstable the next day.He hadn't lost any close relatives or friends since his mother's death.His aunt's sudden death not only shocked him, but filled him with a nameless dread: for the first time in his life he felt that he, too, would eventually die.He couldn't imagine how his uncle would live without the virtuous wife who loved him and served him for forty years.He guessed that the uncle must be devastated and completely collapsed.He dreaded this first meeting during mourning, knowing that he would not be able to say anything that would work on such an occasion.He murmured a few decent condolences to himself.

Philip entered the parsonage by the side door, and went straight to the dining room.Uncle William is reading a newspaper. "The train is delayed," he said, looking up. Philip, who was about to vent his feelings in tears, was taken aback at the lackluster reception.Depressed but calm, the uncle handed Philip the newspaper. "The Blackstable Times had a nice little piece about her," he said. Philip took it mechanically and looked at it. "Want to go upstairs and see her?" Philip nodded.The uncle and nephew went upstairs together.Aunt Louisa lay in the center of the bed, surrounded by flowers.

"Please pray for her," said the priest. The vicar knelt, and Philip knelt with him, knowing that the vicar wanted him to do so.Looking at the thin and haggard face, Philip had only one feeling in his heart: all the years of his life have been wasted for nothing!After a while, Mr. Carey coughed, stood up, and pointed to a wreath at the foot of the bed. "It's from the squire," he said in a low voice, as if he were in church at the moment.But the tone of his voice gave the impression that Mr. Carey, as a clergyman, was quite at his place at the moment. "Tea is probably ready."

They went downstairs to the dining room.The shutters were down in the dining room, and the atmosphere seemed a little deserted.The pastor sat at the end of the table in the seat reserved for his wife, pouring tea and offering snacks in a courteous manner.Philip thought to himself that the two of them should not be able to swallow any food on such an occasion, but in a blink of an eye, he found that his uncle's appetite was not affected at all, so he began to chew with relish as usual.For a while, neither uncle nor nephew said anything.Philip was absorbed in a delicious piece of cake, but his face showed a sad look, which he thought was justified.

"It's a very different world than it was when I was a curate," said the pastor after a while. "When I was young, the mourners were always given a pair of black gloves and a piece of black silk to put on their top hat. Poor Louisa used to get the black silk for her clothes. She used to say that going to twelve funerals was a You can get a new dress." Then he told Philip who had sent wreaths, and that twenty-four had now been received, and that Mrs. Rawlinson, the Vicar's wife at Fourney, had received thirty-two when she died.However, there will be a lot of wreaths coming tomorrow.The funeral procession did not start from the Vicarage until eleven o'clock, and they were sure to take Mrs. Rawlinson lightly.Louisa had always hated Mrs Rawlinson.

"I will preside over the funeral myself. I promised Louisa that no one else should have a hand in her burial." Philip cast a disapproving look at the pastor as he took the second cake.To eat two pieces of cake on this occasion, he couldn't help thinking that his uncle was too greedy for his appetite. "Mary Ann's cakes are beyond words. I'm afraid no one else will ever make such an excellent cake again." "She's not going to go?" cried Philip, startled. Mary Ann had been at the parsonage as long as Philip could remember.She never forgot Philip's birthday, and she always gave him little trinkets, ugly presents, but affectionate ones.Philip liked her with all his heart.

"No, she's going," replied Mr. Carey, "I don't think it's right for a big girl to stay here." "My God, she must be in her forties." "Yeah, I know she's that old. But she's been a bit of a nuisance lately, and she's been taking it too far. I think this is a good time to let her go." "That chance will never come again," said Philip. Philip produced a cigarette, but his uncle would not let him light it. "Let's do it after the funeral, Philip," he said gently. "All right," said Philip. "As long as your poor Aunt Louisa's upstairs, it's not quite proper to smoke in this room."

After the funeral, bank manager and church deacon Josiah Graves returned to the Vicarage for dinner.The shutters were drawn, and Philip could not help feeling a sense of relief.The body was parked in the house, which made him feel quite uncomfortable.This poor woman was the embodiment of kindness and gentleness in life, but when she was lying stiff and cold in the bedroom upstairs, she seemed to be an evil force capable of controlling the living.The very thought terrified Philip. For a minute or two, he and the deacon were alone in the dining room. "I hope you can stay with your uncle for a few more days," he said. "I don't think he should be left alone just now."

"I have no definite intentions," replied Philip; "if he wants me to stay, I shall be glad to do so." During the meal, the deacon, in mourning for the sadly widowed husband, talked about a recent fire in Blackstable that had destroyed part of the Methodist church. "I heard they didn't have fire insurance," he said, with a small smile on his face. "It doesn't matter if you have fire insurance or not," the pastor said. "Anyway, when the time comes to rebuild the church, we will not be able to raise as much as we need. Dissenters are always happy to contribute."

"I saw Holden also sent a wreath." Holden is the local Nonconformist priest.Mr. Carey nodded to him in the street, but never said a word to him, for Jesus' sake--for Jesus had died so generously to save them both. "I think it's time to get the show," he said. "There are forty-one wreaths in all. The one you sent is very pretty, and Philip and I like it very much." "It's nothing," said the banker. In fact, he was also very proud. He noticed that the wreath he sent was bigger than anyone else, and it looked very impressive.They talked about the people at the funeral.Some shops in town were not even open because of the funeral.The deacon of the church took out a notice from his pocket, which said that because Guangz attended Mrs. Carey's funeral, the store will be closed before 1:00 pm. "

"That was my idea," he said. "I take their offer," said the vicar, "and poor Louisa would be grateful if she had some soul in heaven." Philip only cared about his own food.Mary Ann treated it like it was Sunday, so they had roast chicken and gooseberry pie. "Perhaps you haven't thought about the tombstone yet?" said the church deacon. "No, I've thought about it, and I'm going to have a modest stone cross. Louisa is always against ostentation." "A crucifix would be perfect. If you're considering the inscription, what do you think of this verse: Is it not more blessed to remain with Christ?" The pastor chewed.This deacon is just like Bismarck, he wants to be the master of everything!He didn't like that verse.This seems to be deliberately plastering his face. "I don't think that's the right passage. I prefer this one: What the Lord has given, the Lord has taken away." "Oh, you like this! I always think this line seems a little less emotional. The chaplain responded bitterly, and Mr. Graves answered in a tone that seemed too haughty to the widower's sense of proportion.How decent it would be if he, a husband, couldn't choose scriptures for his dead wife's tombstone!After some silence they turned the conversation to parish business.Philip went into the garden to smoke his pipe.He sat down on the bench and suddenly laughed hysterically. A few days later the vicar expressed his wish that Philip might stay a few weeks longer in Blackstable. "Well, I think it suits me well," said Philip. "I'd like to ask you to stay until September and then go back to Paris. I don't know if that will work." Philip did not answer.Recently, he often thought about what Foinet had said to him, and he couldn't make up his mind, so he didn't want to talk about the future.If he gave up studying fine arts, he would be the best.Policy, because he has self-knowledge and is convinced that he cannot be superior in this respect.Unfortunately, he seems to be the only one who thinks this way. Others will think that he has quit and surrendered, and he just won't admit defeat.He is stubborn by nature, knowing that he may not be talented in a certain area, but he wants to fight against fate, and he has to make a name for himself in this area.He never wanted to make himself the laughing stock of his friends.Because of this kind of personality, he probably couldn't make up his mind to give up learning painting for a while, but when the environment changed, his views on things suddenly changed accordingly.He, too, found, as many have done, that once the Channel had been crossed, things that had seemed so important suddenly seemed insignificant.The life that I thought was so charming before, and I was reluctant to leave no matter what, now seems dull.He felt an aversion to the cafes there, to the restaurants with terrible cooking, to the shabby way of life of their gang.He doesn't care what his friends think of him anymore.The eloquent Cronshaw, the respectable Mrs. Otter, the affectated Ruth Chalice, the quarrelsome Lawson and Clutton, Philip was disgusted with them all.He wrote to Lawson, begging him to send all his belongings left in Paris.After a week, something came.Philip unwrapped the canvas bag and found that he could look at his picture without emotion.He noticed this fact and found it amusing.His uncle couldn't wait to see his paintings.At the beginning, the pastor had strongly opposed Philip's going to Paris, but now that it was done, he didn't care.The pastor was very interested in the study and life of the students in Paris, and kept asking about this and that, trying to find out about this aspect.In fact, he was somewhat proud that his nephew had become a painter.When visitors came, the vicar always tried to get Philip to talk.The chaplain looked and relished the few studies for models that Philip had shown him.Philip put his picture of Miguel Ajuria in front of the priest. "Why did you draw him?" asked Mr. Carey. "Oh, I need a model to practice my pen on. His haircut interests me." "I said, anyway, you're free here, why don't you draw a portrait of me?" "You'd get tired of sitting and being portraited." "I think I'll like it." "Let's see." Philip was amused by his uncle's vanity.Evidently he wished Philip could paint him a portrait.If you have the opportunity to gain but not lose, you can't let it go in vain.For the next two or three days, he gave hints from time to time.He blamed Philip for being lazy, and kept asking him when he could get to work.Later, he told everyone that Philip was going to paint himself.At last, after breakfast, one rainy day, Mr. Carey said to Philip: "Well, this morning, you can just paint me, what do you think?" Philip put down the book in his hand and leaned back in the chair. "I've given up drawing," he said. "Why?" his uncle asked in surprise. "I don't think there's much fun in being a second-rate painter, and I'm sure I can't do much more." "You astonish me. Before you went to Paris, you didn't just say you were a genius." "I didn't know myself then, Philippe said. "I thought that whichever career you chose, you would have a bit of backbone to the end. Now it seems that you are a person who wants to change, but you just don't have the strength." Philip couldn't help being a little annoyed that his uncle didn't understand how great his determination was and how much courage he had gathered. "Rolling stones don't grow moss," the priest continued.Philip hated this proverb because it meant nothing to him.Long before Philip left the accounting firm, the uncle used to use this proverb to lecture others when he argued with him.Now, his guardian apparently recalled that scene again. "Now that you are no longer a child, it's time to think about where you want to live. At first you insisted on being an accountant, but later you got bored and wanted to be a painter, but now you have to change your mind on a whim, which shows that you..." He hesitated for a moment, trying to consider what flaws of character this meant, but Philip took over and finished the sentence for him in one breath. "Indecision, weakness, lack of vision, lack of determination." The pastor looked up quickly, and glanced at his nephew to see if he was mocking him.Philip's face was serious, but his eyes twinkled, much to the chaplain's annoyance.Philip shouldn't be so cynical.The pastor felt that his nephew should be given a good lesson. "From now on, I won't ask you about money matters anymore, you can make up your own mind. However, I still want to remind you that your money is not too much to spend, and besides, you are unfortunately disabled. It's certainly not easy to support yourself." Philip saw now that anyone who was angry with him would first think of mentioning his limp.And his opinion of humanity as a whole is determined by the fact that few people can resist the temptation to touch someone where it hurts.Fortunately, Philip has practiced a lot now, even if someone mentions his disability to his face, he can still keep his face.Philip's blushing, which had troubled him deeply as a child, was now under his control. "To be fair, when you insisted on learning painting, I objected to you. No matter what, you have to admit Luo." "I can't say that clearly. I think that a man can learn more by letting himself go about his own way than by being told to behave in a proper way. If he makes a mistake, he can learn more. Anyway, I have been dissolute. For a while. Now I have no objection to finding a career and settling down." "Which line of work?" Philip was unprepared for the question, in fact he hadn't even made up his mind.He had a dozen occupations in mind. "The most suitable thing for you is to inherit your father's career and become a doctor." "It's not surprising, that's exactly what I planned." Among so many professions, Philip thought of practicing medicine mainly because the profession of doctor can allow people to enjoy more personal freedom, and his life experience of squatting in an office in the past also made him determined not to do it again. Any errands that have anything to do with the office.But his answer to the pastor just now was almost unconsciously blurted out, it was purely an impromptu response.He had made up his mind in this accidental way, and it was a little amusing to himself.He decided on the spot to enter the hospital where his father had studied in the fall. "So you lost your two years in Paris?" "I can't tell. I've had a good time these two years, and I've learned a thing or two." "What's the matter?" Philip pondered for a moment, and his next answer sounded somewhat provocative. "I learned to see hands, which I had never seen before. I also learned how to look at houses and trees against the background of the sky, not in isolation. I also learned that shadows are not black, but colorful." "I suppose you think you're smart, but I think you're so frivolous and stupid."