Ярмарка тщеславия

A Round-about Chapter between London and Hampshire

           

           Hewasafineopen-facedboy,withblueeyesandwavingflaxenhair,sturdyinlimb,butgenerousandsoftinheart,fondlyattachinghimselftoallwhoweregoodtohim—tothepony—toLordSouthdown,whogavehimthehorse(heusedtoblushandglowalloverwhenhesawthatkindyoungnobleman)—tothegroomwhohadchargeofthepony—toMolly,thecook,whocrammedhimwithghoststoriesatnight,andwithgoodthingsfromthedinner—toBriggs,whomheplaguedandlaughedat—andtohisfatherespecially,whoseattachmenttowardstheladwascurioustootowitness.Here,ashegrewtobeabouteightyearsold,hisattachmentsmaybesaidtohaveended.Thebeautifulmother-visionhadfadedawayafterawhile.Duringneartwoyearsshehadscarcelyspokentothechild.Shedislikedhim.Hehadthemeaslesandthehooping-cough.Heboredher.Onedaywhenhewasstandingatthelanding-place,havingcreptdownfromtheupperregions,attractedbythesoundofhismother’svoice,whowassingingtoLordSteyne,thedrawingroomdooropeningsuddenly,discoveredthelittlespy,whobutamomentbeforehadbeenraptindelight,andlisteningtothemusic.

           Hismothercameoutandstruckhimviolentlyacoupleofboxesontheear.HeheardalaughfromtheMarquisintheinnerroom(whowasamusedbythisfreeandartlessexhibitionofBecky’stemper)andfleddownbelowtohisfriendsofthekitchen,burstinginanagonyofgrief.

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