Название: Mary Barton
Автор: Элизабет Гаскелл
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Классическая проза
isbn: 9780007480548
isbn:
‘Well, neighbour,’ said Wilson, ‘all that may be very true, but what I want to know now is about Esther – when did you last hear of her?’
‘Why, she took leave of us that Sunday night in a very loving way, kissing both wife Mary, and daughter Mary (if I must not call her “little”), and shaking hands with me; but all in a cheerful sort of manner, so we thought nothing about her kisses and shakes. But on Wednesday night comes Mrs Bradshaw’s son with Esther’s box, and presently Mrs Bradshaw follows with the key; and when we began to talk, we found Esther told her she was coming back to live with us, and would pay her week’s money for not giving notice; and on Tuesday night she carried off a little bundle (her best clothes were on her back, as I said before) and told Mrs Bradshaw not to hurry herself about the big box, but bring it when she had time. So, of course, she thought she should find Esther with us; and when she told her story, my missis set up such a screech, and fell down in a dead swoon. Mary ran up with water for her mother, and I thought so much about my wife, I did not seem to care at all for Esther. But the next day I asked all the neighbours (both our own and Bradshaw’s) and they’d none of ’em heard or seen nothing of her. I even went to a policeman, a good enough sort of man, but a fellow I’d never spoken to before because of his livery, and I asks him if his ’cuteness could find anything out for us. So I believe he asks other policemen; and one on ’em had seen a wench, like our Esther, walking very quickly, with a bundle under her arm, on Tuesday night, towards eight o’clock, and get into a hackney coach, near Hulme Church, and we don’t know th’ number, and can’t trace it no further. I’m sorry enough for the girl, for bad’s come over her, one way or another, but I’m sorrier for my wife. She loved her next to me and Mary, and she’s never been the same body since poor Tom’s death. However, let’s go back to them; your old woman may have done her good.’
As they walked homewards with a brisker pace, Wilson expressed a wish that they still were the near neighbours they once had been.
‘Still our Alice lives in the cellar under No. 14, in Barber Street, and if you’d only speak the word she’d be with you in five minutes to keep your wife company when she’s lonesome. Though I’m Alice’s brother, and perhaps ought not to say it, I will say there’s none more ready to help with heart or hand than she is. Though she may have done a hard day’s wash, there’s not a child ill within the street, but Alice goes to offer to sit up, and does sit up too, though may be she’s to be at her work by six next morning.’
‘She’s a poor woman, and can feel for the poor, Wilson,’ was Barton’s reply; and then he added, ‘Thank you kindly for your offer, and mayhap I may trouble her to be a bit with my wife, for while I’m at work, and Mary’s at school, I know she frets above a bit. See, there’s Mary!’ and the father’s eye brightened, as in the distance, among a group of girls, he spied his only daughter, a bonny lass of thirteen or so, who came bounding along to meet and to greet her father, in a manner that showed that the stern-looking man had a tender nature within. The two men had crossed the last stile, while Mary loitered behind to gather some buds of the coming hawthorn, when an overgrown lad came past her, and snatched a kiss, exclaiming, ‘For old acquaintance’ sake, Mary.’
‘Take that for old acquaintance’ sake, then,’ said the girl, blushing rosy red, more with anger than shame, as she slapped his face. The tones of her voice called back her father and his friend, and the aggressor proved to be the eldest son of the latter, the senior by eighteen years of his little brothers.
‘Here, children, instead o’ kissing and quarrelling, do ye each take a baby, for if Wilson’s arms be like mine they are heartily tired.’
Mary sprang forward to take her father’s charge, with a girl’s fondness for infants, and with some little foresight of the event soon to happen at home; while young Wilson seemed to lose his rough, cubbish nature as he crowed and cooed to his little brother.
‘Twins is a great trial to a poor man, bless ’em,’ said the half-proud, half-weary father, as he bestowed a smacking kiss on the babe ere he parted with it.
* ‘Nesh’; Anglo-Saxon, nesc, tender. ‘It seemeth for love his herte is tendre and neshe.’ – CHAUCER, Court of Love.
* ‘Farrantly’, comely, pleasant-looking. ‘And hir hatir (attire) was wele farand.’ – ROBERT DE BRUNNE.
‘Polly, put the kettle on,
And let’s have tea!
Polly, put the kettle on,
And we’ll all have tea.’
‘Here we are, wife; did’st thou think thou’d lost us?’ quoth hearty-voiced Wilson, as the two women rose and shook themselves in preparation for their homeward walk. Mrs Barton was evidently soothed, if not cheered, by the unburdening of her fears and thoughts to her friend; and her approving look went far to second her husband’s invitation that the whole party should adjourn from Green Heys Fields to tea, at the Bartons’ house. The only faint opposition was raised by Mrs Wilson, on account of the lateness of the hour at which they would probably return, which she feared on her babies’ account.
‘Now, hold your tongue, missis, will you,’ said her husband good-temperedly. ‘Don’t you know them brats never goes to sleep till long past ten? and haven’t you a shawl, under which you can tuck one lad’s head, as safe as a bird’s under its wing? And as for t’other one, I’ll put it in my pocket rather than not stay, now we are this far away from Ancoats.’
‘Or, I can lend you another shawl,’ suggested Mrs Barton.
‘Ay, anything rather than not stay.’
The matter being decided the party proceeded home, through many half-finished streets, all so like one another, that you might have easily been bewildered and lost your way. Not a step, however, did our friends lose; down this entry, cutting off that corner, until they turned out of one of these innumerable streets into a little paved court, having the backs of houses at the end opposite to the opening, and a gutter running through the middle to carry off household slops, washing suds, &c. The women who lived in the court were busy taking in strings of caps, frocks, and various articles of linen, which hung from side to side, dangling so low, that if, our friends had been a few minutes sooner, they would have had to stoop very much, or else the half-wet clothes would have flapped in their faces: but although the evening seemed yet early when they were in the open fields – among the pent-up houses, night, with its mists and its darkness, had already begun to fall.
Many greetings were given and exchanged between the Wilsons and these women, for not long ago they had also dwelt in this court.
Two rude lads, standing СКАЧАТЬ