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

Markham!”

She turned round and held out her hand. I gave it a spiteful squeeze.

Chapter IV

Our party, on the 5th of November, passed off very well, in spite of Mrs. Graham's refusal to grace it with her presence. My mother, as usual, was cheerful and chatty, full of activity and good-nature.

Mr. Millward told important dogmas and sententious jokes, pompous anecdotes and oracular discourses. Mrs. Markham, the polite Mr. Lawrence, the sedate Mary Millward, the quiet

Richard Wilson, and Robert listened to him very attentively.

Mrs. Wilson was more brilliant than ever, with her fresh news and old scandal, trivial questions and remarks. Her daughter Jane was, of course, as graceful and elegant, as witty and seductive. Here were all the ladies to outshine, and all the gentlemen to charm, – and Mr. Lawrence, especially, to capture and subdue.

Richard Wilson, Jane's younger brother, sat in a corner, silent and shy. Rose informed me that he favoured us with his company because of his sister Jane, who was anxious to show Mr.

Lawrence that she had at least one brother more gentlemanly and refined than Robert.

Mary Millward was mute. She was rather sullen than diffident. Eliza told me she came because her father insisted upon it.

My Eliza was charming beyond description, coquettish without affectation, and desirous to engage my attention. She belied by saucy words and gestures.

Rose was simple and natural as usual, and full of mirth and vivacity. Fergus was impertinent and absurd.

And finally (for I omit myself), Mr. Lawrence was gentlemanly and inoffensive to all, and polite to the vicar and the ladies, especially his hostess and her daughter, and Miss Wilson – a blind man! He had not the taste to prefer Eliza Millward. He seldom quitted the secluded place of his birth, where he lived in solitary state. I was the companion most agreeable to his taste. I liked the man well enough, but he was too cold, and shy, and self-contained, to obtain my cordial sympathies.

His heart was like a sensitive plant, that opens for a moment in the sunshine, but curls up and shrinks into itself at the slightest touch of the finger, or the lightest breath of wind. Our intimacy was rather a mutual predilection than a deep and solid friendship. Mr. Lawrence was like a new garment, all very neat and trim to look at, but very tight in the elbows.

Soon after the arrival of the guests, my mother mentioned Mrs. Graham.