W. Somerset Maugham: Novels, Short Stories, Plays & Travel Sketches (33 Titles In One Edition). Уильям Сомерсет Моэм

Чтение книги онлайн.

      VII

       Table of Contents

       Next day Mary went into Primpton House. Colonel Parsons nodded to her as she walked up the drive, and took off his spectacles. The front door was neither locked nor bolted in that confiding neighbourhood, and Mary walked straight in.

      "Well, my dear?" said the Colonel, smiling with pleasure, for he was as fond of her as of his own son.

      "I thought I'd come and see you alone. Jamie's still out, isn't he? I saw him pass our house. I was standing at the window, but he didn't look up."

      "I daresay he was thinking. He's grown very thoughtful now."

      Mrs. Parsons came in, and her quiet face lit up, too, as she greeted Mary. She kissed her tenderly.

      "Jamie's out, you know."

      "Mary has come to see us," said the Colonel. "She doesn't want us to feel neglected now that she has the boy."

      "We shall never dream that you can do anything unkind, dear Mary," replied Mrs. Parsons, stroking the girl's hair. "It's natural that you should think more of him than of us."

      Mary hesitated a moment.

      "Don't you think Jamie has changed?"

      Mrs. Parsons looked at her quickly.

      "I think he has grown more silent. But he's been through so much. And then he's a man now; he was only a boy when we saw him last."

      "D'you think he cares for me any more?" asked Mary, with a rapid tremor in her voice.

      "Mary!"

      "Of course he does! He talks of you continually," said Colonel Parsons, "and always as if he were devoted. Doesn't he, Frances?"

      The old man's deep love for Mary had prevented him from seeing in Jamie's behaviour anything incongruous with that of a true lover.

      "What makes you ask that question, Mary?" said Mrs. Parsons.

      Her feminine tact had led her to notice a difference in Jamie's feeling towards his betrothed; but she had been unwilling to think that it amounted even to coldness. Such a change could be explained in a hundred natural ways, and might, indeed, exist merely in her own imagination.

      "Oh, he's not the same as he was!" cried Mary, "I don't know what it is, but I feel it in his whole manner. Yesterday evening he barely said a word."

      James had dined with the Clibborns in solemn state.

      "I daresay he's not very well yet. His wound troubles him still."

      "I try to put it down to that," said Mary, "but he seems to force himself to speak to me. He's not natural. I've got an awful fear that he has ceased to care for me."

      She looked from Colonel Parsons to his wife, who stared at her in dismay.

      "Don't be angry with me," she said; "I couldn't talk like this to anyone else, but I know you love me. I look upon you already as my father and mother. I don't want to be unkind to mamma, but I couldn't talk of it to her; she would only sneer at me. And I'm afraid it's making me rather unhappy."

      "Of course, we want you to treat us as your real parents, Mary. We both love you as we love Jamie. We have always looked upon you as our daughter."

      "You're so good to me!"

      "Has your mother said anything to annoy you?"

      Mary faltered.

      "Last night, when he went away, she said she didn't think he was devoted to me."

      "Oh, I knew it was your mother who'd put this in your head! She has always been jealous of you. I suppose she thinks he's in love with her."

      "Mrs. Parsons!" cried Mary, in a tone of entreaty.

      "I know you can't bear anything said against your mother, and it's wicked of me to vex you; but she has no right to suggest such things."

      "It's not only that. It's what I feel."

      "I'm sure Jamie is most fond of you," said Colonel Parsons, kindly. "You've not seen one another for five years, and you find yourselves altered. Even we feel a little strange with Jamie sometimes; don't we, Frances? What children they are, Frances!" Colonel Parsons laughed in that irresistibly sweet fashion of his. "Why, it was only the day before yesterday that Jamie came to us with a long face and asked if you cared for him."

      "Did he?" asked Mary, with pleased surprise, anxious to believe what the Colonel suggested. "Oh, he must see that I love him! Perhaps he finds me unresponsive.... How could I help caring for him? I think if he ceased to love me, I should die."

      "My dearest Mary," cried Mrs. Parsons, the tears rising to her eyes, "don't talk like that! I'm sure he can't help loving you, either; you're so good and sweet. You're both of you fanciful, and he's not well. Be patient. Jamie is shy and reserved; he hasn't quite got used to us yet. He doesn't know how to show his feelings. It will all come right soon."

      "Of course he loves you!" said Colonel Parsons. "Who could help it? Why, if I were a young fellow I should be mad to marry you."

      "And what about me, Richmond?" asked Mrs. Parsons, smiling.

      "Well, I think I should have to commit bigamy, and marry you both."

      They laughed at the Colonel's mild little joke, happy to break through the cloud of doubt which oppressed them.

      "You're a dear thing," said Mary, kissing the old man, "and I'm a very silly girl. It's wrong СКАЧАТЬ