The Bird has got wings - стр. 6

Putting the letter aside, Anthony picked up the second, tied with a thick thread, and cut the thread with a letter opener. But as his fingers unfolded the letter and the unfamiliar handwriting caught his eye, there was a loud knock.

– Anthony, are you busy? – came Lady Cranford's voice from behind the door.

– No, mother, come in," Anthony answered reluctantly, and laid the letter on the table.

His mother entered the room unheard. She walked with a smile to the table and stood beside it, for her son had been slow to offer her a chair far enough away for Lady Cranford to move it herself. The rudeness hurt her, but the woman decided not to give away her true feelings and hid the offence behind a calm smile.

– I have just had a conversation with Agnes," the Countess began, looking intently into her son's face. – She said that her younger sister Alexandra had recently made her debut. I hope you remember that girl? As beautiful as her sister. And she's young: she's seventeen years old… .

– Have you come to ask her to marry me? – Anthony interrupted his mother in a bored tone and, rising from the table, went to the window and stood with his back to her to let her know that he was not in the least interested in the conversation about Alexandra.

– Her father is giving her an eighteen thousand dowry…" Taking advantage of the fact that her son was not looking in her direction, Lady Cranford glanced furtively at the letter Anthony had printed but never read and ran her eyes over it. The brevity of what was written told her that it was only a note. – This girl would be beautiful…" When she had read the note in full, she suddenly faltered, turned pale, and looked at her son with incomprehension. But he did not hurry to turn round to her. The woman grabbed the note from the table with trembling hands. – Ah, here's where my correspondence with Mr. Brown has gone! – she exclaimed in a false cheerful tone, clutching the paper to her chest. – It seems to have come to you by mistake, my dear, but I take it back.

– As you wish," Anthony said in an indifferent tone.

– Well… Please think of Alexandra… But I have urgent business to attend to… Good day to you, my dear. – Lady Cranford turned round and hurried out of her son's room, taking with her and wishing to conceal from him the contents of the note which she had crumpled convulsively in her hands.

On entering her chambers, the Countess straightened the paper, carefully re-read the message, crumpled it up again, and threw it into the burning fireplace. The woman's face was dead-white, and one could easily read the very true disgust in it.

Darkness was falling on London, and the revelry was in full swing in the magnificent, huge Wingtons' mansion, and it seemed that the best-dressed ladies and gentlemen had no intention of sleeping that night. Musicians played tune after tune, the waxed parquet clattered under a hundred heels, and the air shook with the clinking of crystal glasses and plates. The house, lit by hundreds of candles, was stuffy, and all the windows were open wide. Servants dressed in beautiful livery swept through the corridors and between the dancers, bringing expensive golden champagne, wine as scarlet as blood, aged wine, and whiskey and brandy to the many guests invited to the ball. A ball given by the young Wington couple in honour of the consummation of their marriage.