Холодний дім

Esther’s Narrative

           "WhataDameDurdenitistoreadaface!"HewassoquaintlycheerfulthatIcouldnotlongbeotherwise,andwasalmostashamedofhavingbeenotherwiseatall.WhenIwenttobed,Icried.IamboundtoconfessthatIcried;butIhopeitwaswithpleasure,thoughIamnotquitesureitwaswithpleasure.Irepeatedeverywordofthelettertwiceover.Amostbeautifulsummermorningsucceeded,andafterbreakfastwewentoutarminarmtoseethehouseofwhichIwastogivemymightyhousekeepingopinion.Weenteredaflower-gardenbyagateinasidewall,ofwhichhehadthekey,andthefirstthingIsawwasthatthebedsandflowerswerealllaidoutaccordingtothemannerofmybedsandflowersathome."Yousee,mydear,"observedmyguardian,standingstillwithadelightedfacetowatchmylooks,"knowingtherecouldbenobetterplan,Iborrowedyours."Wewentonbyaprettylittleorchard,wherethecherrieswerenestlingamongthegreenleavesandtheshadowsoftheapple-treesweresportingonthegrass,tothehouseitselfacottage,quitearusticcottageofdoll’srooms;butsuchalovelyplace,sotranquilandsobeautiful,withsucharichandsmilingcountryspreadaroundit;withwatersparklingawayintothedistance,herealloverhungwithsummer-growth,thereturningahummingmill;atitsnearestpointglancingthroughameadowbythecheerfultown,wherecricket-playerswereassemblinginbrightgroupsandaflagwasflyingfromawhitetentthatrippledinthesweetwestwind.

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