Wingless Bird - стр. 32
– But, darling, you shouldn't fly under the radar and expect to be proposed to by a titled and very rich man either. Your chances of such a marriage, if you take a sober view of the situation, are even less than Anthony's," said the Countess, in the tone of an abbess.
"Oh, auntie, you don't know me at all! You may order your son about, but I will pursue my purpose, and you will soon realise how you have underestimated your poor niece!" – With a sneer in her soul, thought Vivian to herself.
– 'You are right, of course, aunt,' she said aloud. – But would you like to take a walk in the garden? I can't get enough of your beautiful flowers.
Lady Cranford did not need to be asked twice, and hand in hand they went into the garden to enjoy the colours of summer on this rather cold but exciting day.
***
Anthony Cranford did not leave his chambers: he had spent last night drearily, and, from the unbearable weight of the thoughts that filled his mind, had drunk four glasses of red wine more than he should have at dinner. The wine was strong, stupefying, and by the end of the meal the young man was drunk, but he found the strength to say good night to the ladies, make them a gallant bow, and then walked straight to his chambers, locked the door, lay down in a wide bed, without taking off his suit, and immediately fell asleep.
What was the cause of such a completely uncharacteristic behaviour? After all, at home, Anthony did not allow himself more than two glasses of wine at dinner and a glass of expensive brandy when he woke up the desire to read. Sitting in Greenhall's vast, rich library, which contained thousands of books in English, French, German, and Latin (all Cranfords were quite fluent in this dead language), the young man would read a book and at the same time drink a glass of brandy slowly, savouring it, and it gave him moral pleasure.
Vivian. It was she who had been the culprit of his intoxication last night. This girl had disturbed the peace not only of her aunt, but also of her cousin.
The image of the red-haired cousin refused to leave Anthony's mind and, what was worse, his imagination painted him pictures full of the voluptuous intimacy that had tormented him without sleep every night since the modest Miss Cowell had appeared at Greenhall. He had thought that after he had called his cousin a "wingless bird," and that she had evidently borne a grudge against him (for she had avoided him and would not talk to him), he would feel better and be relieved of the obsession, but alas! Vivian's coldness only made him more passionate, and young Cranford was horrified to realise that his cousin had not only deprived him of peace and sleep, but had stolen his heart. And this he did not need, so unfortunate, for he was soon to be married to another rich girl. Anthony sincerely hoped that Vivian would marry as soon as possible, preferably right after her debut, which might cool his passion for her, because another man's wife is just a house cat, and he liked wild and free.
The young aristocrat had left his bed in the morning, but, dressed in a cosy dressing-gown, spent his time in the quiet of his richly furnished chambers: Lady Cranford had given him permission to furnish them to his own taste, and, owing to this circumstance, Anthony was surrounded by rather bright but elegant furniture.