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оксана2018-11-27
Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур
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Professor2018-11-27
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Vera.Li2016-02-21
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 И что это было?
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Ярмарка тщеславия / Vanity Fair - Теккерей Уильям Мейкпи - Страница 7


7
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At the same time Mr. Sedley’s affairs were not that successful as due to the war the funds were falling. Still he presumed his daughter’s happiness to be stuck with Osborne and he promised the latter 10 thousand pounds to proceed with the marriage what Osborne happily promised.

* * *

Rawdon Crawley sent up his name by the sulky femme de chambre,[13] and Miss Crawley’s new companion put a little hand into his as he stepped forward eagerly to meet her. Miss Crawley became quite cheerful, to the admiration of the doctors when they visited her, who usually found this worthy woman of the world under the depression and terror of death.

Captain Crawley came every day, and received bulletins from Miss Rebecca respecting his aunt’s health. The causes which had led to the illness of Miss Crawley, and her departure from her brother’s house in the country, were of such an unromantic nature that they are hardly fit to be explained in this sentimental novel.

For how is it possible to hint of a delicate female, living in good society, that she ate and drank too much? The attack was so sharp that all the family were in a fever of expectation regarding the will, and Rawdon Crawley was making sure of at least forty thousand pounds before the commencement of the London season.

Becky Sharp took the trouble of assisting the old lady. During the illness she was never out of temper; always alert; she slept light, having a perfectly clear conscience. Her face might be a trifle paler, and the circles round her eyes a little blacker than usual; but whenever she came out from the sick-room she was always smiling, fresh, and neat. The Captain thought so, and raved about her. The shaft of love had penetrated his soul.

He confided his secret to his aunt. She warned him Rawdon must not trifle with her affections, though – dear Miss Crawley would never pardon him for that; for she, too, was quite overcome by the little governess, and loved Sharp like a daughter. Rawdon must go away – go back to his regiment and naughty London, and not play with a poor artless girl’s feelings.

When he saw Rebecca alone, he rallied her about his father’s attachment in his graceful way. She flung up her head scornfully, looked him full in the face, and said, “Well, suppose he is fond of me. I know he is, and others too. You don’t think I am afraid of him, Captain Crawley? You don’t suppose I can’t defend my own honour,” said the little woman, looking as stately as a queen.

Well, meanwhile Becky was the greatest comfort and convenience to Miss Crawley, and she gave her a couple of new gowns, and an old necklace and shawl. When Miss Crawley was well enough to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they took, whither, of all places in the world they went to Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley. When the two girls met, and flew into each other’s arms, Rebecca performed her part of the embrace with the most perfect energy. Poor little Amelia blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of something very like coldness towards her.

Their first interview was but a very short one. Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend.

“My dear Sharp, your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you hear?” Miss Crawley had a good taste. She talked of Amelia half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon Crawley.

Of course, on this Rebecca instantly stated that Amelia was engaged to be married.

Amelia visited Rebecca in her present-day home. As Rebecca was shawling her in an upper apartment, where these two friends had an opportunity for a little of secret talking, Amelia, coming up to Rebecca, and taking her two little hands in hers, said, “Rebecca, I see it all.” Rebecca kissed her. And regarding this delightful secret, not one syllable more was said by either of the young women. But it was destined to come out before long.

Some short period after the above events, and Miss Rebecca Sharp still remaining at her patroness’s house in Park Lane, Sir Pitt was a widower again.

The news of Lady Crawley’s death provoked no more grief or comment than might have been expected in Miss Crawley’s family circle. “I suppose I must put off my party for the 3rd,” Miss Crawley said; and added, after a pause, “I hope my brother will have the decency not to marry again.”

On the morrow, as Rebecca was gazing from the window, she startled Miss Crawley, who was placidly occupied with a French novel, by crying out in an alarmed tone, “Here’s Sir Pitt, Ma’am!”

“My dear, I can’t see him. I won’t see him,” cried out Miss Crawley, and resumed the novel.

“She’s too ill to see you, sir,” Rebecca said, tripping down to Sir Pitt.

“So much the better,” Sir Pitt answered. “I want to see YOU, Miss Becky. Come along with me into the parlour,” and they entered that apartment together.

“I want you back at Queen’s Crawley, Miss,” the baronet said, fixing his eyes upon her.

“I hope to come soon,” she said in a low voice, “as soon as Miss Crawley is better – and return to – to the dear children.”

“You’ve said so these three months, Becky,” replied Sir Pitt. “Will you come back? Yes or no?”

“I daren’t – I don’t think – it would be right – to be alone – with you, sir,” Becky said, seemingly in great agitation.

“I say again, I want you,” Sir Pitt said, thumping the table. “I can’t get on without you. The house all goes wrong. It’s not the same place. You MUST come back. Do come back. Dear Becky, do come.”

“Come – as what, sir?” Rebecca gasped out.

“Come as Lady Crawley, if you like,” the Baronet said.

“Oh, Sir Pitt!” Rebecca said, very much moved.

“Say yes, Becky,” Sir Pitt continued. “I’m an old man, but a good one. I’ll make you happy.”

Rebecca wept some of the most genuine tears that ever fell from her eyes.

“Oh, Sir Pitt!” she said. “Oh, sir – I–I’m married ALREADY.”

8

“Generosity be hanged![14]” Sir Pitt roared out. “Who is it to, then, you’re married? Where was it?”

“Let me come back with you to the country, sir! Let me watch over you as faithfully as ever! Don’t, don’t separate me from dear Queen’s Crawley!”

“The feller has left you, has he?” the Baronet said, beginning, as he fancied, to comprehend. “Well, Becky – come back if you like.

“Oh, sir! it would be the pride of my life to go back to Queen’s Crawley, and take care of the children, and of you as formerly, when you said you were pleased with the services of your little Rebecca. I can’t be your wife, sir; let me – let me be your daughter.” Saying which, Rebecca went down on HER knees in a most tragical way.

Miss Crawley was astonished by Becky’s rejection of Sir Pitt. “Nonsense, my dear, you would never have refused him had there not been someone else in the case,” Miss Crawley said, coming to her point at once. “Tell me the private reasons. There is someone; who is it that has touched your heart?”

Rebecca cast down her eyes. “You have guessed right, dear lady,” she said.

“My poor dear child,” cried Miss Crawley, who was always quite ready to be sentimental, “Tell me all, and let me console you.”

“I wish you could, dear Madam,” Rebecca said in the same tearful tone. And she laid her head upon Miss Crawley’s shoulder and wept there so naturally that the old lady, surprised into sympathy, embraced her with an almost maternal kindness. Rebecca wrote a letter later that day promising to her recipient that she would make the Old Miss Crawley adopt her and provide them a happy life and inheritance.