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发帖数: 1400 | 1 'Nearly a fortnight by my computation; and, besides, I cannot bear the
thoughts of a Christmas spent from home: and, moreover, my sister is going
to be married.'
'Is she - when?'
'Not till next month; but I want to be there to assist her in making
preparations, and to make the best of her company while we have her.'
'Why didn't you tell me before?'
'I've only got the news in this letter, which you stigmatize as dull and
stupid, and won't let me read.'
'To whom is she to be married?'
'To Mr. Richardson, the vicar of a neighbouring parish.'
'Is he rich?'
'No; only comfortable.'
'Is he handsome?'
'No; only decent.'
'Young?'
'No; only middling.'
'Oh, mercy! what a wretch! What sort of a house is it?'
'A quiet little vicarage, with an ivy-clad porch, an old-fashioned garden,
and - '
'Oh, stop! - you'll make me sick. How CAN she bear it?'
'I expect she'll not only be able to bear it, but to be very happy. You did
not ask me if Mr. Richardson were a good, wise, or amiable man; I could have
answered Yes, to all these questions - at least so Mary thinks, and I hope
she will not find herself mistaken.'
---copy from Agnes Grey |
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