Читать книгу Незнакомка из Уайлдфелл-Холла. Уровень 2 / The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - Эмили Бронте, Энн Бронте - Страница 9

It was a splendid morning of June. Most of the hay was cut. My brother ran up to me and put into my hand a small parcel, just arrived from London. I tore off the cover, and disclosed an elegant and portable edition of “Marmion[11].” I hastened away to Wildfell Hall, with the book in my pocket; for it was destined for the shelves of Mrs. Graham.

We met several times, and I found she was not averse to my company.

“Let me first establish my position as a friend,” thought I, “the patron and playfellow of her son, the sober, solid friend of herself, and then we'll see.”

We talked about painting, poetry, and music, theology, geology, and philosophy. Once or twice I lent her a book, and once she lent me one in return. I gave a little dog to her son. I met her in her walks often; I came to her house as often as I dared. One day she expressed a wish to read “Marmion”.

I ventured to ask Mrs. Graham for one more look at the picture she was painting.

“Oh, yes! Come in,” said she (I met her in the garden). “It is finished, all ready; but give me your last opinion.”

The picture was beautiful. But, while I gazed, I thought upon the book, and wondered how to present it. I looked out of the window, and then pulled out the book, turned round, and put it into her hand, with this short explanation:

“You wished to see “Marmion,” Mrs. Graham; and here it is. Please take it.”

A momentary blush suffused her face. She gravely examined the volume; then silently turned over the leaves, in serious cogitation. Then she closed the book, and quietly asked the price of it.

“I'm sorry to offend you, Mr. Markham,” said she, “but unless I pay for the book, I cannot take it.” And she laid it on the table.

“Why cannot you?”

“Because,” she paused, and looked at the carpet.

“Why cannot you?” I repeated.

“Because I don't like to put myself under obligations that I can never repay.”

“Nonsense!” ejaculated I.

She turned her eyes on me again, with a look of quiet, grave surprise.

“Then you won't take the book?” I asked.

“I will gladly take it. How much is it?”

I told her the exact price. She produced her purse, and coolly counted out the money, but hesitated to put it into my hand.

“You think yourself insulted, Mr Markham but I- ”

“I understand you,” I said. “But believe me, I shall build no hopes upon it, and consider this no precedent for future favours.”

“Well, then,” she answered, with a smile. Then she returned the odious money to her purse, “but remember!”

“I will remember. But do not withdraw your friendship from me,” said I.