The Complete Works. George Eliot

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СКАЧАТЬ that will suit your complexion, you know, better than the old scarlet one. I know Mrs. Sharp will be more in love with you than ever when she sees you in the new one.’

      ‘My complexion, ye little roogue! ye’re a laughin’ at me. But talkin’ o’ complexions, what a beautiful colour the bride as is to be has on her cheeks! Dang my boottons! she looks faine and handsome o’ hossback—sits as upraight as a dart, wi’ a figure like a statty! Misthress Sharp has promised to put me behaind one o’ the doors when the ladies are comin’ doon to dinner, so as I may sae the young un i’ full dress, wi’ all her curls an’ that. Misthress Sharp says she’s almost beautifuller nor my ledy was when she was yoong; an’ I think ye’ll noot faind man i’ the counthry as’ll coom up to that.’

      ‘Yes, Miss Assher is very handsome,’ said Caterina, rather faintly, feeling the sense of her own insignificance returning at this picture of the impression Miss Assher made on others.

      ‘Well, an’ I hope she’s good too, an’ll mek a good naice to Sir Cristhifer an’ my ledy. Misthress Griffin, the maid, says as she’s rether tatchy and find-fautin’ aboot her cloothes, laike. But she’s yoong—she’s yoong; that’ll wear off when she’s got a hoosband, an’ children, an’ summat else to think on. Sir Cristhifer’s fain an’ delaighted, I can see. He says to me th’ other mornin’, says he, “Well, Bates, what do you think of your young misthress as is to be?” An’ I says, “Whay, yer honour, I think she’s as fain a lass as iver I set eyes on; an’ I wish the Captain luck in a fain family, an’ your honour laife an’ health to see’t.” Mr. Warren says as the masther’s all for forrardin’ the weddin’, an’ it’ll very laike be afore the autumn’s oot.’

      As Mr. Bates ran on, Caterina felt something like a painful contraction at her heart. ‘Yes,’ she said, rising, ‘I dare say it will. Sir Christopher is very anxious for it. But I must go, uncle Bates; Lady Cheverel will be wanting me, and it is your dinner-time.’

      ‘Nay, my dinner doon’t sinnify a bit; but I moosn’t kaep ye if my ledy wants ye. Though I hevn’t thanked ye half anoof for the comfiter—the wrapraskil, as they call’t. My feckins, it’s a beauty. But ye look very whaite and sadly, Miss Tiny; I doubt ye’re poorly; an’ this walking i’ th’ wet isn’t good for ye.’

      ‘O yes, it is indeed,’ said Caterina, hastening out, and taking up her umbrella from the kitchen floor. ‘I must really go now; so good-bye.’

      She tripped off, calling Rupert, while the good gardener, his hands thrust deep in his pockets, stood looking after her and shaking his head with rather a melancholy air.

      ‘She gets moor nesh and dillicat than iver,’ he said, half to himself and half to Hester. ‘I shouldn’t woonder if she fades away laike them cyclamens as I transplanted. She puts me i’ maind on ’em somehow, hangin’ on their little thin stalks, so whaite an’ tinder.’

      The poor little thing made her way back, no longer hungering for the cold moist air as a counteractive of inward excitement, but with a chill at her heart which made the outward chill only depressing. The golden sunlight beamed through the dripping boughs like a Shechinah, or visible divine presence, and the birds were chirping and trilling their new autumnal songs so sweetly, it seemed as if their throats, as well as the air, were all the clearer for the rain; but Caterina moved through all this joy and beauty like a poor wounded leveret painfully dragging its little body through the sweet clover-tufts—for it, sweet in vain. Mr. Bates’s words about Sir Christopher’s joy, Miss Assher’s beauty, and the nearness of the wedding, had come upon her like the pressure of a cold hand, rousing her from confused dozing to a perception of hard, familiar realities. It is so with emotional natures whose thoughts are no more than the fleeting shadows cast by feeling: to them words are facts, and even when known to be false, have a mastery over their smiles and tears. Caterina entered her own room again, with no other change from her former state of despondency and wretchedness than an additional sense of injury from Anthony. His behaviour towards her in the morning was a new wrong. To snatch a caress when she justly claimed an expression of penitence, of regret, of sympathy, was to make more light of her than ever.

      Chapter VIII.

      Table of Contents

      That evening Miss Assher seemed to carry herself with unusual haughtiness, and was coldly observant of Caterina. There was unmistakably thunder in the air. Captain Wybrow appeared to take the matter very easily, and was inclined to brave it out by paying more than ordinary attention to Caterina. Mr. Gilfil had induced her to play a game at draughts with him, Lady Assher being seated at picquet with Sir Christopher, and Miss Assher in determined conversation with Lady Cheverel. Anthony, thus left as an odd unit, sauntered up to Caterina’s chair, and leaned behind her, watching the game. Tina, with all the remembrances of the morning thick upon her, felt her cheeks becoming more and more crimson, and at last said impatiently, ‘I wish you would go away.’

      This happened directly under the view of Miss Assher, who saw Caterina’s reddening cheeks, saw that she said something impatiently, and that Captain Wybrow moved away in consequence. There was another person, too, who had noticed this incident with strong interest, and who was moreover aware that Miss Assher not only saw, but keenly observed what was passing. That other person was Mr. Gilfil, and he drew some painful conclusions which heightened his anxiety for Caterina.

      The next morning, in spite of the fine weather, Miss Assher declined riding, and Lady Cheverel, perceiving that there was something wrong between the lovers, took care that they should be left together in the drawing-room. Miss Assher, seated on the sofa near the fire, was busy with some fancy-work, in which she seemed bent on making great progress this morning. Captain Wybrow sat opposite with a newspaper in his hand, from which he obligingly read extracts with an elaborately easy air, wilfully unconscious of the contemptuous silence with which she pursued her filigree work. At length he put down the paper, which he could no longer pretend not to have exhausted, and Miss Assher then said,—‘You seem to be on very intimate terms with Miss Sarti.’

      ‘With Tina? oh yes; she has always been the pet of the house, you know. We have been quite brother and sister together.’

      ‘Sisters don’t generally colour so very deeply when their brothers approach them.’

      ‘Does she colour? I never noticed it. But she’s a timid little thing.’

      ‘It would be much better if you would not be so hypocritical, Captain Wybrow. I am confident there has been some flirtation between you. Miss Sarti, in her position, would never speak to you with the petulance she did last night, if you had not given her some kind of claim on you.’

      ‘My dear Beatrice, now do be reasonable; do ask yourself what earthly probability there is that I should think of flirting with poor little Tina. Is there anything about her to attract that sort of attention? She is more child than woman. One thinks of her as a little girl to be petted and played with.’

      ‘Pray, what were you playing at with her yesterday morning, when I came in unexpectedly, and her cheeks were flushed, and her hands trembling?

      ‘Yesterday morning?—O, I remember. You know I always tease her about Gilfil, who is over head and ears in love with her; and she is angry at that,—perhaps, because she likes him. They were old playfellows years before I came here, and Sir Christopher has set his heart on their marrying.’

      ‘Captain Wybrow, you are very false. It had nothing to do with Mr. Gilfil that she coloured last night СКАЧАТЬ