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My mother looked so lovely in her death!
母亲安息时看起来是那么可爱！
She was always pretty, and now she looked fair, and waxen, and young—younger than Deborah, as she stood trembling and shivering by her.
她向来都很漂亮，而现在她看起来很美丽、很苍白、很年轻——比站在她身边颤抖着的黛博拉还要年轻。
We decked her in the long soft folds; she lay smiling, as if pleased;
我们用那长长的、柔软的、有很多褶皱的披肩把她打扮好；她面带微笑地躺着，似乎很高兴；
and people came—all Cranford came—to beg to see her, for they had loved her dearly, as well they might;
人们都来了——克兰福德所有的人都来了——请求看看她，因为他们非常爱她，他们也应该爱她；
and the countrywomen brought posies; old Clare’s wife brought some white violets and begged they might lie on her breast.
乡下女人带来了小花束；老克莱尔的妻子带来了一些白色紫罗兰，并请求把花放在她的胸前。
Deborah said to me, the day of my mother’s funeral, that if she had a hundred offers she never would marry and leave my father.
黛博拉在我母亲葬礼那天对我说，即使有一百个求婚者，她也绝不会结婚并离开我父亲。
It was not very likely she would have so many—I don’t know that she had one; but it was not less to her credit to say so.
她不大可能有那么多求婚者，我连一个都不知道；但她这么说，也无损于她的清誉。
She was such a daughter to my father as I think there never was before or since.
她是对父亲那么孝顺的女儿，我想，以前没有，以后也不会有像她这样的女儿了。
His eyes failed him, and she read book after book, and wrote, and copied, and was always at his service in any parish business.
他的眼睛不行了，她就一本接一本地念书给他听，还写东西、誊抄，总是帮他处理任何教区事务。
She could do many more things than my poor mother could; she even once wrote a letter to the bishop for my father.
她能做的事情比我那可怜的母亲多得多；她甚至有一次还帮父亲给主教写了一封信。
But he missed my mother sorely; the whole parish noticed it.
但父亲非常想念母亲；整个教区都注意到了。
Not that he was less active; I think he was more so, and more patient in helping every one.
并不是说他不那么积极了；我认为他在帮助每个人时比以前更积极了，也更有耐心了。
I did all I could to set Deborah at liberty to be with him;
我尽我所能让黛博拉有空和父亲待在一起；
for I knew I was good for little, and that my best work in the world was to do odd jobs quietly, and set others at liberty.
因为我知道我没什么用处，我在这个世界上最好的用处就是安静地做些零碎的工作，好让其他人有空闲。
But my father was a changed man.”
但我父亲已经变了一个人。”
“Did Mr Peter ever come home?”
“彼得先生回过家吗？”
“Yes, once. He came home a lieutenant; he did not get to be admiral.
“是的，回过一次。他回家时是中尉，他最后也没有成为海军上将。
And he and my father were such friends!
而且他和父亲成了非常要好的朋友！
My father took him into every house in the parish, he was so proud of him.
父亲带他去拜访了教区内的每一户人家，他为彼得感到非常骄傲。
He never walked out without Peter’s arm to lean upon.
只要他出门，他就会挽着彼得的手臂。
Deborah used to smile (I don’t think we ever laughed again after my mother’s death), and say she was quite put in a corner.
黛博拉过去常常微笑（我想母亲去世后我们再也没有笑过），说她已经被遗忘在角落里了。
Not but what my father always wanted her when there was letter-writing or reading to be done, or anything to be settled.”
不过，每当有写信、读书或其他需要解决的事情时，父亲总是想要她来帮忙。”
“And then?” said I, after a pause.
“然后呢？”我沉默了一下，然后说。
“Then Peter went to sea again; and, by-and-by, my father died, blessing us both, and thanking Deborah for all she had been to him;
“然后彼得又出海了；后来，我父亲去世了，临终前他祝福我们俩，感谢黛博拉对他的一切照顾；
and, of course, our circumstances were changed; and, instead of living at the rectory, and keeping three maids and a man, we had to come to this small house, and be content with a servant-of-all-work;
当然，我们的境况也变了；我们不再住在教区长的住宅里，不再雇三个女仆和一个男仆，而是不得不搬到这所小房子里，让一个仆人做所有工作；
but, as Deborah used to say, we have always lived genteelly, even if circumstances have compelled us to simplicity.
但是，正如黛博拉常说的，即使环境迫使我们一切从简，但我们仍然一直过着文雅的生活。
Poor Deborah!”
可怜的黛博拉！”
“And Mr Peter?” asked I.
“那彼得先生呢？”我问。
“Oh, there was some great war in India—I forget what they call it—and we have never heard of Peter since then.
“哦，印度发生了一场大战——我忘了战争的名字了——从那以后我们就再也没有听到过彼得的消息。
I believe he is dead myself; and it sometimes fidgets me that we have never put on mourning for him.
我个人相信他已经死了；我们从来没有为他守丧，这有时让我感到不安。
And then again, when I sit by myself, and all the house is still, I think I hear his step coming up the street, and my heart begins to flutter and beat; but the sound always goes past—and Peter never comes.
但话又说回来，当我独自一人坐着，整个房子都很安静时，我觉得我听到他从街上走来的脚步声，于是我的心开始扑腾扑腾地跳；但脚步声总是会走远，而彼得却从未回来过。
That’s Martha back? No! I’ll go, my dear; I can always find my way in the dark, you know.
是玛莎回来了吗？不！我去吧，亲爱的；你知道，我总是能在黑暗中找到路的。
And a blow of fresh air at the door will do my head good, and it’s rather got a trick of aching.”
而且在门口呼吸一点新鲜空气会对我的头有好处，我有点头疼的毛病。”
So she pattered off.
于是马蒂小姐脚步啪嗒地走了。
I had lighted the candle, to give the room a cheerful appearance against her return.
我已点亮了蜡烛，好让她回来时屋里显得气氛欢快些。
“Was it Martha?” asked I.
“是玛莎吗？”我问道。
“Yes. And I am rather uncomfortable, for I heard such a strange noise, just as I was opening the door.”
“是的。而且我感觉很不舒服，因为我听到了一个奇怪的声音，就在我正要开门的时候。”
“Where?” I asked, for her eyes were round with affright.
“在哪里？”我问，因为她的眼睛因恐惧而圆睁着。
“In the street—just outside—it sounded like......”
“在街上——就在外面——听起来好像......”
“Talking?” I put in, as she hesitated a little.
“说话声？”我插了一句，因为她有点吞吞吐吐。
“No! Kissing.”
“不！像是在接吻。”
