Холодный дом

Esther’s Narrative

           WearrangedatimeforMissFlitetocomeoutbythecoachandsharemyearlydinner.Whenmyguardianleftme,IturnedmyfaceawayuponmycouchandprayedtobeforgivenifI,surroundedbysuchblessings,hadmagnifiedtomyselfthelittletrialthatIhadtoundergo.ThechildishprayerofthatoldbirthdaywhenIhadaspiredtobeindustrious,contented,andtrue-heartedandtodogoodtosomeoneandwinsomelovetomyselfifIcouldcamebackintomymindwithareproachfulsenseofallthehappinessIhadsinceenjoyedandalltheaffectionateheartsthathadbeenturnedtowardsme.IfIwereweaknow,whathadIprofitedbythosemercies?Irepeatedtheoldchildishprayerinitsoldchildishwordsandfoundthatitsoldpeacehadnotdepartedfromit.Myguardiannowcameeveryday.InaweekorsomoreIcouldwalkaboutourroomsandholdlongtalkswithAdafrombehindthewindow-curtain.YetIneversawher,forIhadnotasyetthecouragetolookatthedearface,thoughIcouldhavedonesoeasilywithoutherseeingme.OntheappointeddayMissFlitearrived.Thepoorlittlecreatureranintomyroomquiteforgetfulofherusualdignity,andcryingfromherveryheartofhearts,"MydearFitzJarndyce!"felluponmyneckandkissedmetwentytimes."Dearme!"saidshe,puttingherhandintoherreticule,"Ihavenothingherebutdocuments,mydearFitzJarndyce;Imustborrowapockethandkerchief."Charleygaveherone,andthegoodcreaturecertainlymadeuseofit,forsheheldittohereyeswithbothhandsandsatso,sheddingtearsforthenexttenminutes.

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