Сестра Керри

Chapter IX. Convention’s Own Tinder-box: The Eye That Is Green

           

           “Whowasthatwithyou,Jessica?”sheinquired,asJessicacameupstairs.

           “It’sMr.Blyford,mamma,”shereplied.

           “Isit?”saidMrs.Hurstwood.

           “Yes,andhewantsmetostrolloverintotheparkwithhim,”explainedJessica,alittleflushedwithrunningupthestairs.

           “Allright,mydear,”saidMrs.Hurstwood.“Don’tbegonelong.”

           Asthetwowentdownthestreet,sheglancedinterestedlyoutofthewindow.Itwasamostsatisfactoryspectacleindeed,mostsatisfactory.

           InthisatmosphereHurstwoodhadmovedforanumberofyears,notthinkingdeeplyconcerningit.Hiswasnottheorderofnaturetotroubleforsomethingbetter,unlessthebetterwasimmediatelyandsharplycontrasted.Asitwas,hereceivedandgave,irritatedsometimesbythelittledisplaysofselfishindifference,pleasedattimesbysomeshowoffinerywhichsupposedlymadefordignityandsocialdistinction.Thelifeoftheresortwhichhemanagedwashislife.Therehespentmostofhistime.Whenhewenthomeeveningsthehouselookednice.Withrareexceptionsthemealswereacceptable,beingthekindthatanordinaryservantcanarrange.Inpart,hewasinterestedinthetalkofhissonanddaughter,whoalwayslookedwell.ThevanityofMrs.Hurstwoodcausedhertokeepherpersonrathershowilyarrayed,buttoHurstwoodthiswasmuchbetterthanplainness.Therewasnolovelostbetweenthem.Therewasnogreatfeelingofdissatisfaction.Heropiniononanysubjectwasnotstartling.Theydidnottalkenoughtogethertocometotheargumentofanyonepoint.

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