Пробний камінь
VIII
“Whohasbeenreadingwhat?”
“ThatlovelygirlfromtheSouth—Georgie—Georgiewhat’shername—Mrs.Dresham’sprotegee—unlessshe’syours,Mr.Dresham!Why,thebigball-roomwaspacked,andallthewomenwerecryinglikeidiots—itwasthemostharrowingthingIeverheard—”
“Whatdidyouhear?”Glennardasked;andhiswifeinterposed:“Won’tyouhaveanotherbitofcake,Julia?Or,Stephen,ringforsomehottoast,please.”Hertonebetrayedapolitesatietyofthetopicunderdiscussion.Glennardturnedtothebell,butMrs.Armigerpursuedhimwithherlovelyamazement.
“Why,the‘AubynLetters’—didn’tyouknowaboutit?Thegirlreadthemsobeautifullythatitwasquitehorrible—Ishouldhavefaintedifthere’dbeenamannearenoughtocarrymeout.”
Hartly’sgleeredoubled,andDreshamsaid,jovially,“Howlikeyouwomentoraiseashriekoverthebookandthendoallyoucantoencouragetheblatantpublicityofthereadings!”
Mrs.Armigermethimmorethanhalf-wayonatorrentofself-accusal.“Itwashorrid;itwasdisgraceful.Itoldyourwifeweoughtalltobeashamedofourselvesforgoing,andIthinkAlexawasquiterighttorefusetotakeanytickets—evenifitwasforacharity.”
“Oh,”herhostessmurmured,indifferently,“withmecharitybeginsathome.Ican’taffordemotionalluxuries.”
“Acharity?Acharity?”Hartlyexulted.“Ihadn’tseizedthefullbeautyofit.ReadingpoorMargaretAubyn’slove-lettersattheWaldorfbeforefivehundredpeopleforacharity!Whatcharity,dearMrs.
