Біла пташка
The Pleasantest Club in London
IwasnowseeingDavidonceatleasteveryweek,hismother,whoremainedculpablyobtusetomysinisterdesign,havinginstructedIrenethatIwastobeallowedtosharehimwithher,andwehadbecomeclosefriends,thoughthelittlenursewaseverathreateningshadowinthebackground.Irene,inshort,didnotimprovewithacquaintance.Ifoundhertobehighandmighty,chiefly,Ithink,becauseshenowworeanurse’scapwithstreamers,ofwhichthelittlecreaturewasludicrouslyproud.Sheassumedtheairsofanofficialperson,andalwaystalkedasifgenerationsofbabieshadpassedthroughherhands.Shewasalsoextremelyjealous,andhadawayofsignifyingdisapprovalofmymethodsthatledtomanycoldnessesandevenbickeringsbetweenus,whichInowseetohavebeenundignified.Ibroughtthefollowingaccusationsagainsther:
Thatshepratedtoomuchaboutrightandwrong.
Thatshewasamartinet.
Thatshepretendeditwasarealcap,withrealstreamers,whensheknewMaryhadmadethewholethingoutofamuslinblind.Iregrethavingusedthisargument,butitwastheonlyonethatreallydampedher.
Ontheotherhand,sheaccusedmeofspoilinghim.
Ofnotthinkingofhisfuture.
Ofneveraskinghimwhereheexpectedtogotoifhedidsuchthings.
Oftellinghimtalesthathadnomoralapplication.
Ofsayingthatthehandkerchiefdisappearedintonothingness,whenitreallydisappearedintoasmalltincup,attachedtomypersonbyapieceofelastic.
