Читать книгу Who Would Have Thought It? - María Ruiz de Burton - Страница 8

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"The mother did not leave the child with me for life. She wished me to take care of Lola whilst I make inquiries about her family. When Lebrun sends me the manuscript of her narrative, I shall know the names of her relatives and where to look for them. In the mean time, my duty is to take care of Lolita, send her to school, or have her taught at home, and invest her money judiciously."

The face of Mrs. Norval fell. All this glittering fortune which she – vaguely as to the way, but clearly as to the intent-had resolved to share,-all this brilliant fortune might leave her house too soon for her to mature any plan to participate in it. The despised black child she now would give worlds to keep. She would go on her knees to serve her, as her servant, her slave, rather than let her go. Oh, if Lebrun only would keep that manuscript forever! Yes, so that the doctor would not be able to find her relations and Lola remain with them! Thus ran the thoughts of the high-principled matron; but never once did it occur to her that she had sent the child to sleep with the cook and the chambermaid, and she did not know that the little girl was now crying as if her heart were breaking, calling her mother between sobs, sitting up in a dark room, and with the snoring of the two Irishwomen for sole response to her impassioned apostrophes. Lola had refused to share the bed of either of the two servants, and both had resented the refusal as a most grievous insult.

"I am shure I don't want to slape with any of the likes of ye, naither. Niggers ain't my most particliest admirashun, I can tell ye, no more nor toads nor cateypillars. Haith! I think, on the whole, I prefer the cateypillars, as a more dacent sort of a baste," said cook, giving Lola a withering look. Then, with the dexterity of a conjurer, she gave a pull to certain strings about her stomach, whereupon the whole structure of her apparel came tumbling down magically, to Lola's great astonishment, who had no idea but what that hoop-skirt was part of cook's mortal coil.

With dilated orbs, Lola gazed upon the fallen hoop and skirts, then upon that figure clad in an inner garment (which hardly reached to the corrugated knee), standing in the centre of the circle like a stubby column in the middle of a blackened ruin. Cook, being a good Catholic and a lady of spirit, crossed herself earnestly but hurriedly, shook her fist threateningly at Lola, and bolted into bed, leaving behind, in the middle of her hoop-skirt, a pair of shapeless shoes, like two dead crows, and carrying with her to bed a pair of stockings which had been blue, but now were black, and had the privilege of ascending to her ankles, where they modestly coiled themselves in two black rings, and went no farther.

Hannah, the chambermaid, was not so repulsive to look upon; still, the' thought of sharing her bed was to Lola very terrible. Trembling with fear of giving yet more offense to the sensitive Irish ladies, the poor child timidly asked them if they could spare for that night a blanket and a pillow, to go to sleep by herself on the floor.

"I knew that. I knew she would like the floor much better. She ain't used to a nice, dacent bed, that is the nature of her!" said the indignant cook.

Hannah gave Lola a blackened pillow, but told her she could not spare a blanket. Lola said her shawl would do, and Hannah put out the candle. Then the two offended ladies began their nasal duo, and Lola her heart-breaking laments. The louder the Irishwomen snored, the more terrified Lola felt at the darkness and silence beyond that discordant noise, until, almost frantic with terror and desolation, and almost stilling with the foulness of the air, the child, trembling with fear, staggered out of the room and went to lie in the hall, -anywhere, only as far from the Irishwomen as possible. She groped her way along the hall until she felt a door, and at her feet a carpet: it was the mat before Mrs. Norval's door, Suppressing her sobs, Lola lay down on the mat, quietly wrapping her shawl around her shivering body. Jack was lying at Miss Lavinia's door, and kindly came to nestle at her side, wagging his tail apologetically, as if not sure that Lola would appreciate his feelings.

Seeing that his wife made no observation after his last remarks, the doctor continued, saying,

"Yes, my first care must be to invest the gold; then I'll see to the cutting of the stones. It seems to me they will make more jewelry than Lola wants: I might sell part of them."

"Of course you ought to sell the greater part of them. It will only make the child vain to have so much jewelry. She doesn't want them," said Mrs. Norval, warmly; for she had already begun to form a little plan to buy cheap some of these rough pebbles, with the gold she meant to take out of the boxes for her husband's services. For, Mrs. Norval argued to herself, if the doctor was foolish enough to take so much trouble and care for a strange child, for no pay, she did not mean he should. She meant that his services should be well paid. He had a family which he had left for four years; and whilst he was looking after the interests of this strange child, of course he ought to be paid, and must be paid.

"No," the doctor said, and Mrs. Norval started, as if he had read and was answering her thoughts,"no, I can't sell the gems, for I remember now that the poor lady repeated that all, all should be made into jewelry for Lola, as the gold would be enough to support her until her father was found, and who, being rich, will not want Lola's gold,-so she said several times."

"She did not know the gold was a million dollars?"

"No; she had collected it gradually, but she had no idea how much it was. She was only anxious that there should be enough for Lola's expenses and education, until her father was found," said the doc,tor. But he did not say that Lola's mother had told him to take half of the gold for his services.

"And didn't she give you anything for your trouble and your kindness to herself and her child?" inquired Mrs. Norval again.

"Indeed she did pay me royally, like a noble woman that she was. I have yet about ten thousand dollars' worth of the prettiest gold nuggets ever found, besides five thousand I left in Sinclair's bank, and all I spent in California, after paying all my debts."

"And you consider that a sufficient remuneration for all that we are to do, besides what you have already done for them?" asked Mrs. Norval, a slight sneer curling her lip.

"Of course I do. She must have given me something over thirty thousand dollars. Besides, in using Lola's money, of course we can derive a great many advantages, for I don't mean to stint the income, only I shall take mighty good care of the principal."

Mrs. Norval's eyes brightened. The doctor added,

"And, as a matter of course, all the surplus income shall be well invested. The expenses of the child can't be very great, no matter how extravagant we choose to be. Her income will be mostly turned into capital."

His wife gave him a withering look of wrath and contempt. How stupidly, how provokingly honest that man was! His wife almost hated him for it.

"But now it is getting late, Jemima. I must hurry with my narrative, for I am tired with traveling all day," said the doctor, unconscious of his wife's unuttered, unutterable wrath. "Where was I? I forget how much I have told you about that poor lady's story. Let me see. I think I shall have to fill up my pipe again to finish my tale, which, as I said, is not very long, for I trusted to Lebrun's manuscript to refresh my memory."

Mrs. Norval scarcely listened. She made no answer. Her whole soul was oscillating between the bundle of rough pebbles and the box containing the yellow nuggets. What should she do? Who could help her to execute a plan to stop her husband from taking the gold away, or in some way to get hold of it? Ah! a bright thought! The image of the Rev. Hackwell presented itself. Yes, he was "smart," and-and-honest. The thought of Mrs. Norval stammered at the word honest,

"Well, here is my pipe filled again; but I must hurry, for it is past twelve," said the doctor, sitting by his wife to resume his narrative.