Хорошие жёны / Good wives. Уровень 3

Sallie was buying silks, and Meg longed for a new one, just a handsome light one for parties. Sallie urged her to do it, offered to lend the money. In an evil moment the shopman held up the lovely, shimmering folds, and said,

“A bargain, I assure, you, ma’am.”

She answered,

“I’ll take it,” and it was cut off. She paid for it.

When she got home, the words �fifty dollars’ seemed stamped like a pattern down the fabric. She put it away, but it haunted her, not delightfully as a new dress should, but dreadfully.

When John got out his books that night, Meg’s heart sank. For the first time in her married life, she was afraid of her husband. The kind, brown eyes looked stern. Though he was unusually merry, she was afraid. The house bills were all paid, the books all in order. John praised her, and was undoing the old pocketbook which they called the �bank’, when Meg, knowing that it was quite empty, stopped his hand. She said nervously,

“You haven’t seen my private expense book[16 - private expense book – книга личных расходов] yet.

”

John never asked to see it, but she always insisted on his doing so. She brought the little book slowly. The book was laid down before him. Meg got behind his chair. She said, with her panic increasing with every word,

“John, dear, I’m ashamed to show you my book, for I’ve really been dreadfully extravagant lately. I meet people and I must have things, you know, and Sallie advised me to buy something.

So I did, and my New Year’s money will partly pay for it. I was sorry after. I know what you will think of it.”

John laughed, and drew her round beside him,

“Don’t hide. I won’t beat you if you have got a pair of boots. I’m rather proud of my wife’s feet, and don’t mind if she pays eight or nine dollars for her boots, if they are good ones.”

That was one of her last �trifles’, and John’s eye fell on it as he spoke.

“It’s worse than boots, it’s a silk dress,” she said.

“Well, dear, what is the total?”

For a minute the room was very still, then John said slowly – but she could feel it cost him an effort to express no displeasure,

“Well, I don’t know that fifty is much for a dress, with all the details you have to have to finish it off these days.”

“It isn’t made or trimmed,” sighed Meg, faintly.