Незнакомка из Уайлдфелл-Холла. Уровень 2 / The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

“Our presence will interrupt, we shall regard ourselves as unwelcome intruders.”

“Oh, no!” replied she and threw her brush on to the table. “I can readily spare a few minutes to the few that favour me with their company.”

“You have almost completed your painting,” said I, with a greater degree of admiration and delight than I expressed. “But why have you called it Fernley Manor, Cumberland, instead of Wildfell Hall?”

“Because I have friends – acquaintances at least – from whom I desire to conceal my present abode.

“Then you don't intend to keep the picture?” said I.

“No; I cannot afford to paint for my own amusement.”

“Mamma sends all her pictures to London,” said Arthur; “and somebody sells them for her there, and sends us the money.”

I remarked a pretty sketch of Lindenhope from the top of the hill; another view of the old hall in the sunny haze of a quiet summer afternoon; and a simple little picture of a child, with glimpses of dark low hills and autumnal fields behind it.

“I really have nothing else to paint,” observed the fair artist. “They say that you have a fine view of the sea somewhere in the neighbourhood. Is it true? And is it far?”

“Yes, if you are ready to walk four miles – or nearly so – eight miles, there and back.”

“In what direction does it lie?”

I described the situation.

“Oh, stop! Don't tell me now: I shall forget every word of your directions before I require them.

She suddenly paused, with a suppressed exclamation, started up from her seat, and said,

“Excuse me one moment!”

She hurried from the room, and shut the door behind her.

I looked from the window and beheld the man's coat behind a large bush that stood between the window and the porch.

“It's mamma's friend,” said Arthur.

Rose and I looked at each other. Rose began to talk to him, while I looked at the pictures. I discovered another picture. It was the portrait of a gentleman – handsome enough. It was evidently some years before. I surveyed it with considerable interest. Soon the fair artist returned.

“Someone was asking about the pictures,” said she, in apology for her departure: “I told him to wait.