"ElizabethGaskell-LizzieLeigh" - читать интересную книгу автора (Gaskell Elizabeth C)

She sat rocking herself to and fro by the side of the bed, while the
footsteps below went in and out; she had been in sorrow too long to
have any violent burst of deep grief now; the furrows were well worn
in her cheeks, and the tears flowed quietly, if incessantly, all the
day long. But when the winter's night drew on, and the neighbours
had gone away to their homes, she stole to the window, and gazed out,
long and wistfully, over the dark grey moors. She did not hear her
son's voice, as he spoke to her from the door, nor his footstep as he
drew nearer. She started when he touched her.

"Mother! come down to us. There's no one but Will and me. Dearest
mother, we do so want you." The poor lad's voice trembled, and he
began to cry. It appeared to require an effort on Mrs. Leigh's part
to tear herself away from the window, but with a sigh she complied
with his request.

The two boys (for though Will was nearly twenty-one, she still
thought of him as a lad) had done everything in their power to make
the house-place comfortable for her. She herself, in the old days
before her sorrow, had never made a brighter fire or a cleaner
hearth, ready for her husband's return home, than now awaited her.
The tea-things were all put out, and the kettle was boiling; and the
boys had calmed their grief down into a kind of sober cheerfulness.
They paid her every attention they could think of, but received
little notice on her part; she did not resist, she rather submitted
to all their arrangements; but they did not seem to touch her heart.

When tea was ended--it was merely the form of tea that had been gone
through--Will moved the things away to the dresser. His mother leant
back languidly in her chair.

"Mother, shall Tom read you a chapter? He's a better scholar than
I."

"Ay, lad!" said she, almost eagerly. "That's it. Read me the
Prodigal Son. Ay, ay, lad. Thank thee."

Tom found the chapter, and read it in the high-pitched voice which is
customary in village schools. His mother bent forward, her lips
parted, her eyes dilated; her whole body instinct with eager
attention. Will sat with his head depressed and hung down. He knew
why that chapter had been chosen; and to him it recalled the family's
disgrace. When the reading was ended, he still hung down his head in
gloomy silence. But her face was brighter than it had been before
for the day. Her eyes looked dreamy, as if she saw a vision; and by-
and-by she pulled the Bible towards her, and, putting her finger
underneath each word, began to read them aloud in a low voice to
herself; she read again the words of bitter sorrow and deep
humiliation; but most of all, she paused and brightened over the