Читать книгу Sense and Sensibility / Чувство и чувствительность. Уровень 3 - Джейн Остин, Сет Грэм-Смит - Страница 19

Elinor saw, with great uneasiness the low spirits of her friend. It was evident that he was unhappy.

He joined her and Marianne in the breakfast-room the next morning before the others were down. Marianne soon left them to themselves. But after few steps she heard the parlour door open, and, turning round, was astonished to see Edward himself come out.

“I am going into the village to see my horses,” said he, “as you are not yet ready for breakfast; I shall be back again presently.”

Edward returned to them with fresh admiration of the surrounding country; in his walk to the village, he had seen many parts of the valley. Marianne began to describe her own admiration of these parts, and to question him, when Edward interrupted her,

“You must not enquire, Marianne. I shall offend you by my ignorance. I shall call hills steep, not bold; surfaces strange and uncouth, not irregular and rugged. I know nothing of the picturesque.”

“I am afraid it is true,” said Marianne; “but why do you boast of it?”

“I suspect,” said Elinor, “that to avoid one kind of affectation, Edward here falls into another.”

“I am convinced,” said Edward, “that you really feel all the delight. But your sister must allow me to feel no more than I profess. I do not like crooked, twisted, blasted trees. I admire them much more if they are tall, straight, and flourishing. I do not like ruined, tattered cottages. I am not fond of nettles or thistles, or heath blossoms. I have more pleasure in a snug farm-house than a watch-tower. Happy villagers please me better than the finest banditti in the world.”

Marianne looked with amazement at Edward, with compassion at her sister. Elinor only laughed.

Marianne remained thoughtfully silent, till a new object suddenly engaged her attention. She was sitting by Edward, and his hand passed so directly before her. She saw a ring, with a plait of hair in the centre.

“I never saw you wear a ring before, Edward,” she cried. “Is that Fanny’s hair? But I think her hair is darker.”

Edward coloured very deeply, and giving a momentary glance at Elinor, replied,

“Yes; it is my sister’s hair.”

Elinor met his eye, and thought that the hair was her own. But where and how did he get it?

Edward’s embarrassment lasted some time. He was particularly grave the whole morning.

Before the middle of the day, Sir John and Mrs. Jennings visited them. With the assistance of his mother-in-law, Sir John was not long in discovering that the name of Ferrars began with an F, preparing ground for future jokes.

Sir John never came to the Dashwoods without either inviting them to dine at the park the next day, or to drink tea with them that evening.

“You must drink tea with us tonight,” said he, “we shall be quite alone – and tomorrow you must absolutely dine with us, we shall be a large party.”

“And after that – a dance,” said Mrs. Jennings. “And that will tempt you, Miss Marianne.”

“A dance!” cried Marianne. “Impossible! Who will dance?”

“Who! Yourselves, and the Careys, and Whitakers.”