Nicholas Nickleby. Чарльз Диккенс

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СКАЧАТЬ considerable experience prevented the girl from being at all surprised at any outbreak of ill-temper on the part of Miss Squeers. Having a half-perception of what had occurred in the course of the evening, she changed her mode of making herself agreeable, and proceeded on the indirect tack.

      ‘Well, I couldn’t help saying, miss, if you was to kill me for it,’ said the attendant, ‘that I never see nobody look so vulgar as Miss Price this night.’

      Miss Squeers sighed, and composed herself to listen.

      ‘I know it’s very wrong in me to say so, miss,’ continued the girl, delighted to see the impression she was making, ‘Miss Price being a friend of your’n, and all; but she do dress herself out so, and go on in such a manner to get noticed, that – oh – well, if people only saw themselves!’

      ‘What do you mean, Phib?’ asked Miss Squeers, looking in her own little glass, where, like most of us, she saw – not herself, but the reflection of some pleasant image in her own brain. ‘How you talk!’

      ‘Talk, miss! It’s enough to make a Tom cat talk French grammar, only to see how she tosses her head,’ replied the handmaid.

      ‘She does toss her head,’ observed Miss Squeers, with an air of abstraction.

      ‘So vain, and so very – very plain,’ said the girl.

      ‘Poor ‘Tilda!’ sighed Miss Squeers, compassionately.

      ‘And always laying herself out so, to get to be admired,’ pursued the servant. ‘Oh, dear! It’s positive indelicate.’

      ‘I can’t allow you to talk in that way, Phib,’ said Miss Squeers. ‘’Tilda’s friends are low people, and if she don’t know any better, it’s their fault, and not hers.’

      ‘Well, but you know, miss,’ said Phoebe, for which name ‘Phib’ was used as a patronising abbreviation, ‘if she was only to take copy by a friend – oh! if she only knew how wrong she was, and would but set herself right by you, what a nice young woman she might be in time!’

      ‘Phib,’ rejoined Miss Squeers, with a stately air, ‘it’s not proper for me to hear these comparisons drawn; they make ‘Tilda look a coarse improper sort of person, and it seems unfriendly in me to listen to them. I would rather you dropped the subject, Phib; at the same time, I must say, that if ‘Tilda Price would take pattern by somebody – not me particularly – ’

      ‘Oh yes; you, miss,’ interposed Phib.

      ‘Well, me, Phib, if you will have it so,’ said Miss Squeers. ‘I must say, that if she would, she would be all the better for it.’

      ‘So somebody else thinks, or I am much mistaken,’ said the girl mysteriously.

      ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Miss Squeers.

      ‘Never mind, miss,’ replied the girl; ‘I know what I know; that’s all.’

      ‘Phib,’ said Miss Squeers dramatically, ‘I insist upon your explaining yourself. What is this dark mystery? Speak.’

      ‘Why, if you will have it, miss, it’s this,’ said the servant girl. ‘Mr John Browdie thinks as you think; and if he wasn’t too far gone to do it creditable, he’d be very glad to be off with Miss Price, and on with Miss Squeers.’

      ‘Gracious heavens!’ exclaimed Miss Squeers, clasping her hands with great dignity. ‘What is this?’

      ‘Truth, ma’am, and nothing but truth,’ replied the artful Phib.

      ‘What a situation!’ cried Miss Squeers; ‘on the brink of unconsciously destroying the peace and happiness of my own ‘Tilda. What is the reason that men fall in love with me, whether I like it or not, and desert their chosen intendeds for my sake?’

      ‘Because they can’t help it, miss,’ replied the girl; ‘the reason’s plain.’ (If Miss Squeers were the reason, it was very plain.)

      ‘Never let me hear of it again,’ retorted Miss Squeers. ‘Never! Do you hear? ‘Tilda Price has faults – many faults – but I wish her well, and above all I wish her married; for I think it highly desirable – most desirable from the very nature of her failings – that she should be married as soon as possible. No, Phib. Let her have Mr. Browdie. I may pity him, poor fellow; but I have a great regard for ‘Tilda, and only hope she may make a better wife than I think she will.’

      With this effusion of feeling, Miss Squeers went to bed.

      Spite is a little word; but it represents as strange a jumble of feelings, and compound of discords, as any polysyllable in the language. Miss Squeers knew as well in her heart of hearts that what the miserable serving-girl had said was sheer, coarse, lying flattery, as did the girl herself; yet the mere opportunity of venting a little ill-nature against the offending Miss Price, and affecting to compassionate her weaknesses and foibles, though only in the presence of a solitary dependant, was almost as great a relief to her spleen as if the whole had been gospel truth. Nay, more. We have such extraordinary powers of persuasion when they are exerted over ourselves, that Miss Squeers felt quite high-minded and great after her noble renunciation of John Browdie’s hand, and looked down upon her rival with a kind of holy calmness and tranquillity, that had a mighty effect in soothing her ruffled feelings.

      This happy state of mind had some influence in bringing about a reconciliation; for, when a knock came at the front-door next day, and the miller’s daughter was announced, Miss Squeers betook herself to the parlour in a Christian frame of spirit, perfectly beautiful to behold.

      ‘Well, Fanny,’ said the miller’s daughter, ‘you see I have come to see you, although we had some words last night.’

      ‘I pity your bad passions, ‘Tilda,’ replied Miss Squeers, ‘but I bear no malice. I am above it.’

      ‘Don’t be cross, Fanny,’ said Miss Price. ‘I have come to tell you something that I know will please you.’

      ‘What may that be, ‘Tilda?’ demanded Miss Squeers; screwing up her lips, and looking as if nothing in earth, air, fire, or water, could afford her the slightest gleam of satisfaction.

      ‘This,’ rejoined Miss Price. ‘After we left here last night John and I had a dreadful quarrel.’

      ‘That doesn’t please me,’ said Miss Squeers – relaxing into a smile though.

      ‘Lor! I wouldn’t think so bad of you as to suppose it did,’ rejoined her companion. ‘That’s not it.’

      ‘Oh!’ said Miss Squeers, relapsing into melancholy. ‘Go on.’

      ‘After a great deal of wrangling, and saying we would never see each other any more,’ continued Miss Price, ‘we made it up, and this morning John went and wrote our names down to be put up, for the first time, next Sunday, so we shall be married in three weeks, and I give you notice to get your frock made.’

      There was mingled gall and honey in this intelligence. The prospect of the friend’s being married so soon was the gall, and the certainty of her not entertaining serious designs upon Nicholas was the honey. Upon the whole, the sweet greatly preponderated over the bitter, so Miss Squeers said she would get the frock made, and that she hoped ‘Tilda might be happy, though at the same time she didn’t know, and would not have her build too much upon it, for men were strange creatures, and a СКАЧАТЬ