Ярмарка тщеславия

Our Friend the Major

           Shewasaconfidanteatonceofthewholebusiness.Sheknewthestoryaswellasifshehadreaditinoneofherfavouritenovel-booksFatherlessFanny,ortheScottishChiefs.

           "Supposeyouweretorunonandtellher,"theMajorsaid.Pollyranforward,heryellowshawlstreaminginthebreeze.

           OldSedleywasseatedonabench,hishandkerchiefplacedoverhisknees,prattlingaway,accordingtohiswont,withsomeoldstoryaboutoldtimestowhichAmeliahadlistenedandawardedapatientsmilemanyatimebefore.Shecouldoflatethinkofherownaffairs,andsmileormakeothermarksofrecognitionofherfather’sstories,scarcelyhearingawordoftheoldman’stales.AsMarycamebouncingalong,andAmeliacaughtsightofher,shestartedupfromherbench.HerfirstthoughtwasthatsomethinghadhappenedtoGeorgy,butthesightofthemessenger’seagerandhappyfacedissipatedthatfearinthetimorousmother’sbosom.

           "News!News!"criedtheemissaryofMajorDobbin."He’scome!He’scome!"

           "Whoiscome?"saidEmmy,stillthinkingofherson.

           "Lookthere,"answeredMissClapp,turningroundandpointing;inwhichdirectionAmelialooking,sawDobbin’sleanfigureandlongshadowstalkingacrossthegrass.Ameliastartedinherturn,blushedup,and,ofcourse,begantocry.Atallthissimplelittlecreature’sfetes,thegrandeseauxwereaccustomedtoplay.

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