"William Makepeace Thackeray. Vanity fair" - читать интересную книгу автора

Swartz, the rich woolly-haired mulatto from St. Kitt's, on
the day Amelia went away, she was in such a passion of
tears that they were obliged to send for Dr. Floss, and half
tipsify her with salvolatile. Miss Pinkerton's attachment
was, as may be supposed from the high position and
eminent virtues of that lady, calm and dignified; but Miss
Jemima had already whimpered several times at the idea
of Amelia's departure; and, but for fear of her sister,
would have gone off in downright hysterics, like the
heiress (who paid double) of St. Kitt's. Such luxury of
grief, however, is only allowed to parlour-boarders.
Honest Jemima had all the bills, and the washing, and the
mending, and the puddings, and the plate and crockery,
and the servants to superintend. But why speak about
her? It is probable that we shall not hear of her again
from this moment to the end of time, and that when the
great filigree iron gates are once closed on her, she and
her awful sister will never issue therefrom into this little
world of history.

But as we are to see a great deal of Amelia, there is
no harm in saying, at the outset of our acquaintance, that
she was a dear little creature; and a great mercy it is,
both in life and in novels, which (and the latter especially)
abound in villains of the most sombre sort, that
we are to have for a constant companion so guileless
and good-natured a person. As she is not a heroine, there
is no need to describe her person; indeed I am afraid
that her nose was rather short than otherwise, and her
cheeks a great deal too round and red for a heroine; but
her face blushed with rosy health, and her lips with the
freshest of smiles, and she had a pair of eyes which
sparkled with the brightest and honestest good-humour,
except indeed when they filled with tears, and that was
a great deal too often; for the silly thing would cry over
a dead canary-bird; or over a mouse, that the cat haply
had seized upon; or over the end of a novel, were it ever
so stupid; and as for saying an unkind word to her, were
any persons hard-hearted enough to do so-why, so much
the worse for them. Even Miss Pinkerton, that austere
and godlike woman, ceased scolding her after the first
time, and though she no more comprehended sensibility
than she did Algebra, gave all masters and teachers
particular orders to treat Miss Sedley with the utmost
gentleness, as harsh treatment was injurious to her.

So that when the day of departure came, between her
two customs of laughing and crying, Miss Sedley was
greatly puzzled how to act. She was glad to go home,
and yet most woefully sad at leaving school. For three