The Shuttle & The Making of a Marchioness. Frances Hodgson Burnett

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СКАЧАТЬ to dissipate amiably even the vaguest inclination to verge on expecting things from people. While she thought Emily unlikely to allow herself to deteriorate into an encumbrance, her ladyship had seen women in her position before, whose marriages had made perfect fools of them through causing them to lose their heads completely and require concessions and attentions from their newly acquired relations which bored everybody. So she had lightly patted and praised Emily for the course of action she preferred to “keep her up to.”

      “She’s the kind of woman ideas sink into if they are well put,” she had remarked in times gone by. “She’s not sharp enough to see that things are being suggested to her, but a suggestion acts upon her delightfully.”

      Her suggestions acted upon Emily as she walked about the gardens at Palstrey, pondering in the sunshine and soothed by the flower scents of the warmed borders. Such a letter written to Walderhurst might change his cherished plans, concerning which she knew he held certain ambitions. He had been so far absorbed in them that he had gone to India at a time of the year which was not usually chosen for the journey. He had become further interested and absorbed after he had reached the country, and he was evidently likely to prolong his stay as he had not thought of prolonging it. He wrote regularly though not frequently, and Emily had gathered from the tone of his letters that he was more interested than he had ever been in his life before.

      “I would not interfere with his work for anything in the world,” she said. “He cares more for it than he usually cares for things. I care for everything—I have that kind of mind; an intellectual person is different. I am perfectly well and happy here. And it will be so nice to look forward.”

      She was not aware how Lady Maria’s suggestions had “sunk in.” She would probably have reached the same conclusion without their having been made, but since they had been made, they had assisted her. There was one thing of all others she felt she could not possibly bear, which was to realise that she herself could bring to her James’s face an expression she had once or twice seen others bring there (Captain Osborn notably),—an expression of silent boredom on the verge of irritation. Even radiant domestic joy might not be able to overrule this, if just at this particular juncture he found himself placed in the position of a man whom decency compelled to take the next steamer to England.

      If she had felt tenderly towards Hester Osborn before, the feeling was now increased tenfold. She went to see her oftener, she began to try to persuade her to come and stay at Palstrey. She was all the more kind because Hester seemed less well, and was in desperate ill spirits. Her small face had grown thin and yellow, she had dark rings under her eyes, and her little hands were hot and looked like bird’s claws. She did not sleep and had lost her appetite.

      “You must come and stay at Palstrey for a few days,” Emily said to her. “The mere change from one house to another may make you sleep better.”

      But Hester was not inclined to avail herself of the invitation. She made obstacles and delayed acceptance for one reason and another. She was, in fact, all the more reluctant because her husband wished her to make the visit. Their opposed opinions had resulted in one of their scenes.

      “I won’t go,” she had said at first. “I tell you I won’t.”

      “You will,” he answered. “It will be better for you.”

      “Will it be worse for me if I don’t?” she laughed feverishly. “And how will it be better for you if I do? I know you are in it.”

      He lost his temper and was indiscreet, as his temper continually betrayed him into being.

      “Yes, I am in it,” he said through his teeth, “as you might have the sense to see. Everything is the better for us that throws us with them, and makes them familiar with the thought of us and our rights.”

      “Our rights,” the words were a shrill taunt.

      “What rights have you, likely to be recognised, unless you kill her. Are you going to kill her?”

      He had a moment of insanity.

      “I’d kill her and you too if it was safe to do it. You both deserve it!”

      He flung across the room, having lost his wits as well as his temper. But a second later both came back to him as in a revulsion of feeling.

      “I talk like a melodramatic fool,” he cried. “Oh, Hester, forgive me!” He knelt on the floor by her side, caressing her imploringly. “We both take fire in the same way. We are both driven crazy by this damned blow. We’re beaten; we may as well own it and take what we can get. She’s a fool, but she’s better than that pompous, stiff brute Walderhurst, and she has a lot of pull over him he knows nothing about. The smug animal is falling in love with her in his way. She can make him do the decent thing. Let us keep friends with her.”

      “The decent thing would be a thousand a year,” wailed Hester, giving in to his contrition in spite of herself, because she had once been in love with him, and because she was utterly helpless. “Five hundred a year wouldn’t be indecent.”

      “Let us keep on her good side,” he said, fondling her, with a relieved countenance. “Tell her you will come and that she is an angel, and that you are sure a visit to the Manor will save your life.”

      They went to Palstrey a few days later. Ameerah accompanied them in attendance upon her mistress, and the three settled down into a life so regular that it scarcely seemed to wear the aspect of a visit. The Osborns were given some of the most beautiful and convenient rooms in the house. No other visitors were impending and the whole big place was at their disposal. Hester’s boudoir overlooked the most perfect nooks of garden, and its sweet chintz draperies and cushions and books and flowers made it a luxurious abode of peace.

      “What shall I do,” she said on the first evening in it as she sat in a soft chair by the window, looking out at the twilight and talking to Emily. “What shall I do when I must go away?”

      “I don’t mean only from here,—I mean away from England, to loathly India.”

      “Do you dislike it so?” Emily asked, roused to a new conception of her feeling by her tone.

      “I could never describe to you how much,” fiercely. “It is like going to the place which is the opposite of Heaven.”

      “I did not know that,” pityingly. “Perhaps—I wonder if something might not be done: I must talk to my husband.”

      Ameerah seemed to develop an odd fancy for the society of Jane Cupp, which Jane was obliged to confess to her mistress had a tendency to produce in her system “the creeps.”

      “You must try to overcome it, Jane,” Lady Walderhurst said. “I’m afraid it’s because of her colour. I’ve felt a little silly and shy about her myself, but it isn’t nice of us. You ought to read ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin,’ and all about that poor religious Uncle Tom, and Legree, and Eliza crossing the river on the blocks of ice.”

      “I have read it twice, your ladyship,” was Jane’s earnestly regretful response, “and most awful it is, and made me and mother cry beyond words. And I suppose it is the poor creature’s colour that’s against her, and I’m trying to be kind to her, but I must own that she makes me nervous. She asks me such a lot of questions in her queer way, and stares at me so quiet. She actually asked me quite sudden the other day if I loved the big Mem Sahib. I didn’t know what she could mean at first, but after a while I found out it was her Indian way of meaning your ladyship, and she didn’t intend disrespect, because she СКАЧАТЬ