Тяжёлые времена

Mr. James Harthouse

           Bounderbytodiscusstheflavourofthehap’orthofstewedeelshehadpurchasedinthestreetsateightyearsold;andalsooftheinferiorwater,speciallyusedforlayingthedust,withwhichhehadwasheddownthatrepast.Helikewiseentertainedhisguestoverthesoupandfish,withthecalculationthathe(Bounderby)hadeateninhisyouthatleastthreehorsesundertheguiseofpoloniesandsaveloys.Theserecitals,Jem,inalanguidmanner,receivedwith‘charming!’everynowandthen;andtheyprobablywouldhavedecidedhimto‘goin’forJerusalemagainto-morrowmorning,hadhebeenlesscuriousrespectingLouisa.

           ‘Istherenothing,’hethought,glancingatherasshesatattheheadofthetable,whereheryouthfulfigure,smallandslight,butverygraceful,lookedasprettyasitlookedmisplaced;‘istherenothingthatwillmovethatface?’

           Yes!ByJupiter,therewassomething,andhereitwas,inanunexpectedshape.Tomappeared.Shechangedasthedooropened,andbrokeintoabeamingsmile.

           Abeautifulsmile.Mr.JamesHarthousemightnothavethoughtsomuchofit,butthathehadwonderedsolongatherimpassiveface.Sheputoutherhandaprettylittlesofthand;andherfingerscloseduponherbrother’s,asifshewouldhavecarriedthemtoherlips.

           ‘Ay,ay?’thoughtthevisitor.‘Thiswhelpistheonlycreatureshecaresfor.So,so!’

           Thewhelpwaspresented,andtookhischair.Theappellationwasnotflattering,butnotunmerited.

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