Ярмарка тщеславия / Vanity Fair - стр. 15
Well, meanwhile Becky was the greatest comfort and convenience to Miss Crawley, and she gave her a couple of new gowns, and an old necklace and shawl. When Miss Crawley was well enough to drive out, Becky accompanied her. And amongst the drives which they took, whither, of all places in the world they went to Russell Square, Bloomsbury, and the house of John Sedley. When the two girls met, and flew into each other’s arms, Rebecca performed her part of the embrace with the most perfect energy. Poor little Amelia blushed as she kissed her friend, and thought she had been guilty of something very like coldness towards her.
Their first interview was but a very short one. Miss Crawley was fairly captivated by the sweet blushing face of the young lady who came forward so timidly and so gracefully to pay her respects to the protector of her friend.
“My dear Sharp, your young friend is charming. Send for her to Park Lane, do you hear?” Miss Crawley had a good taste. She talked of Amelia half a dozen times that day. She mentioned her to Rawdon Crawley.
Of course, on this Rebecca instantly stated that Amelia was engaged to be married.
Amelia visited Rebecca in her present-day home. As Rebecca was shawling her in an upper apartment, where these two friends had an opportunity for a little of secret talking, Amelia, coming up to Rebecca, and taking her two little hands in hers, said, “Rebecca, I see it all.” Rebecca kissed her. And regarding this delightful secret, not one syllable more was said by either of the young women. But it was destined to come out before long.
Some short period after the above events, and Miss Rebecca Sharp still remaining at her patroness’s house in Park Lane, Sir Pitt was a widower again.
The news of Lady Crawley’s death provoked no more grief or comment than might have been expected in Miss Crawley’s family circle. “I suppose I must put off my party for the 3rd,” Miss Crawley said; and added, after a pause, “I hope my brother will have the decency not to marry again.”
On the morrow, as Rebecca was gazing from the window, she startled Miss Crawley, who was placidly occupied with a French novel, by crying out in an alarmed tone, “Here’s Sir Pitt, Ma’am!”
“My dear, I can’t see him. I won’t see him,” cried out Miss Crawley, and resumed the novel.
“She’s too ill to see you, sir,” Rebecca said, tripping down to Sir Pitt.
“So much the better,” Sir Pitt answered. “I want to see YOU, Miss Becky. Come along with me into the parlour,” and they entered that apartment together.
“I want you back at Queen’s Crawley, Miss,” the baronet said, fixing his eyes upon her.
“I hope to come soon,” she said in a low voice, “as soon as Miss Crawley is better – and return to – to the dear children.”
“You’ve said so these three months, Becky,” replied Sir Pitt. “Will you come back? Yes or no?”
“I daren’t – I don’t think – it would be right – to be alone – with you, sir,” Becky said, seemingly in great agitation.
“I say again, I want you,” Sir Pitt said, thumping the table. “I can’t get on without you. The house all goes wrong. It’s not the same place. You MUST come back. Do come back. Dear Becky, do come.”
“Come – as what, sir?” Rebecca gasped out.
“Come as Lady Crawley, if you like,” the Baronet said.