"Wilkie Collins - I Say No" - читать интересную книгу автора (Collins Wilkie)

"I have been making an interesting discovery," Francine replied.
"An interesting discovery in our garden? What can it be?"
"The drawing-master, my dear, is in love with Emily. Perhaps she doesn't care
about him. Or, perhaps, I have been an innocent obstacle in the way of an
appointment between them."
Cecilia had breakfasted to her heart's content on her favorite dish--buttered
eggs. She was in such good spirits that she was inclined to be coquettish, even
when there was no man present to fascinate. "We are not allowed to talk about
love in this school," she said--and hid her face behind her fan. "Besides, if it
came to Miss Ladd's ears, poor Mr. Morris might lose his situation."
"But isn't it true?" asked Francine.
"It may be true, my dear; but nobody knows. Emily hasn't breathed a word about
it to any of us. And Mr. Morris keeps his own secret. Now and then we catch him
looking at her--and we draw our own conclusions."
"Did you meet Emily on your way here?"
"Yes, and she passed without speaking to me."
"Thinking perhaps of Mr. Morris."
Cecilia shook her head. "Thinking, Francine, of the new life before her--and
regretting, I am afraid, that she ever confided her hopes and wishes to me. Did
she tell you last night what her prospects are when she leaves school?"
"She told me you had been very kind in helping her. I daresay I should have
heard more, if I had not fallen asleep. What is she going to do?"
"To live in a dull house, far away in the north," Cecilia answered; "with only
old people in it. She will have to write and translate for a great scholar, who
is studying mysterious inscriptions--hieroglyphics, I think they are
called--found among the ruins of Central America. It's really no laughing
matter, Francine! Emily made a joke of it, too. 'I'll take anything but a
situation as a governess,' she said; 'the children who have Me to teach them
would be to be pitied indeed!' She begged and prayed me to help her to get an
honest living. What could I do? I could only write home to papa. He is a member
of Parliament: and everybody who wants a place seems to think he is bound to
find it for them. As it happened, he had heard from an old friend of his (a
certain Sir Jervis Redwood), who was in search of a secretary. Being in favor of
letting the women compete for employment with the men, Sir Jervis was willing to
try, what he calls, 'a female.' Isn't that a horrid way of speaking of us? and
Miss Ladd says it's ungrammatical, besides. Papa had written back to say he knew
of no lady whom he could recommend. When he got my letter speaking of Emily, he
kindly wrote again. In the interval, Sir Jervis had received two applications
for the vacant place. They were both from old ladies--and he declined to employ
them."
"Because they were old," Francine suggested maliciously.
"You shall hear him give his own reasons, my dear. Papa sent me an extract from
his letter. It made me rather angry; and (perhaps for that reason) I think I can
repeat it word for word:--'We are four old people in this house, and we don't
want a fifth. Let us have a young one to cheer us. If your daughter's friend
likes the terms, and is not encumbered with a sweetheart, I will send for her
when the school breaks up at midsummer.' Coarse and selfish--isn't it? However,
Emily didn't agree with me, when I showed her the extract. She accepted the
place, very much to her aunt's surprise and regret, when that excellent person
heard of it. Now that the time has come (though Emily won't acknowledge it), I