"Oscar Wilde. The Canterville Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора

them than your buttler, and when Miss Virginia grows up I daresay she will
be pleased to have pretty things to wear. Besides, you forget, Mr. Otis,
that you took the furniture and the ghost at a valuation, and anything that
belonged to the ghost passed at once into your possession, as, whatever
activity Sir Simon may have shown in the corridor at night, in point of law
he was really dead, and you acquired his property by purchase."
Mr. Otis was a good deal disressed at Lord Canterville's refusal, and
begged him to reconsider his decision, but the good-natured peer was quite
firm, and finally induced the Minister to allow his daughter to retain the
present the ghost had given her, and when, in the spring of 1890, the young
Duchess of Cheshire was presented at the Queen's first drawing-room on the
occasion of her marriage, her jewels were the universal theme of admiration.
For Virginia received the coronet, which is the reward of all good little
American girls, and was married to her boy-lover as he came of age. They
were both so charming, and they loved each other so much, that every one was
delighted at the match, except the old Marchioness of Dumbleton, who had
tried to catch the Duke for one of her seven unmarried daughters, and had
given no less than three expensive dinner-parties for that purpose, and,
strange to say, Mr. Otis himself. Mr. Otis was extremely fond of the young
Duke personally, but, theoretically, he objected to titles, and, to use his
own words, "was not without apprehension lest, amid the enervating
influences of a pleasure-loving aristocracy, the true principles of
Republican simplicity should be forgotten." His objections, however,
were completely overruled, and I believe that when he walked up the aisle of
St. George's, Hanover Square, with his daughter leaning on his arm, there
was not a prouder man in the whole length and breadth of England.
The Duke and the Duchess, after the honeymoon was over, went down to
Canterville Chase, and on the day after their arrival they walked over in
the afternoon to the lonely churchyard by the pine-woods. There had been a
great deal of difficulty at first about the inscription on Sir Simon's
tomb-stone, but finally it had been decided to engrave on it simply the
initials of the old gentleman's name, and the verse from the library window.
The Duchess had brought with her some lovely roses, which she strewed upon
the grave, and after they had stood by it for some time they strolled into
the ruined chancel of the old abbey. There the Duchess sat down on a fallen
pillar, while her husband lay at her feet smoking a cigarette and looking up
at her beautiful eyes. Suddenly he threw his cigarette away, took hold of
her hand, and said to her, "Virginia, a wife should have no sectrets
from her husband."
"Dear Cecil! I have no secrets from you."
"Yes, you have," he answered, smiling, "you have never
told me what happened to you when you were locked up with the ghost."
"I have never told any one, Cecil," said Virginia gravely.
"I know that, but you might tell me."
"Please don't ask me, Cecil, I cannot tell you. Poor Sir Simon! I
owe him a great deal. Yes, don't laugh, Cecil, I really do. He made me see
what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than
both."
The Duke rose and kisse his wife lovingly. "You can have your
secret as long as I have your heart," he murmured.