Мідлмарч

Chapter 9

           "

           Thecousinwassoclosenow,that,whenheliftedhishat,Dorotheacouldseeapairofgrayevesratherneartogether,adelicateirregularnosewithalittlerippleinit,andhairfallingbackward;buttherewasamouthandchinofamoreprominent,threateningaspectthanbelongedtothetypeofthegrandmother’sminiature.YoungLadislawdidnotfeelitnecessarytosmile,asifhewerecharmedwiththisintroductiontohisfuturesecondcousinandherrelatives;butworeratherapoutingairofdiscontent.

           "Youareanartist,Isee,"saidMr.Brooke,takingupthesketch-bookandturningitoverinhisunceremoniousfashion.

           "No,Ionlysketchalittle.Thereisnothingfittobeseenthere,"saidyoungLadislaw,coloring,perhapswithtemperratherthanmodesty.

           "Oh,come,thisisanicebit,now.Ididalittleinthiswaymyselfatonetime,youknow.Lookhere,now;thisiswhatIcallanicething,donewithwhatweusedtocallBRIO."Mr.Brookeheldouttowardsthetwogirlsalargecoloredsketchofstonygroundandtrees,withapool.

           "Iamnojudgeofthesethings,"saidDorothea,notcoldly,butwithaneagerdeprecationoftheappealtoher."Youknow,uncle,Ineverseethebeautyofthosepictureswhichyousayaresomuchpraised.TheyarealanguageIdonotunderstand.

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