Emily Brontë - Сборник лучших произведений английской классической литературы. Уровень 3

I was again alone with my thoughts. I concluded that Mrs. Fairfax was not very rich and felt better as I had never lived amongst fine people but once, and I had been very miserable with them. I wondered if she lived alone except this little girl. If so, I was sure I would get along with her. At least, I resolved to do my best. At Lowood, I had taken the same resolution and I had kept it.

The roads were heavy, the night misty. About two hours later the driver got down and opened a pair of gates. We continued up a long drive and stopped in front of the house. Candlelight glowed from one window at the front; the rest were dark. I climbed out of the buggy with my suitcase, and went to the front door, where a maid was waiting.

“Will you walk this way, ma'am?” she said, and I followed her across the large, square hallway with high doors all round.

She opened a door and showed me through. I couldn't have hoped for a happier scene. The room was small, lit by candles and warmed by a crackling fire. In an armchair sat a plump old lady in a black dress, a cap and a shawl. She was knitting, and at her feet, close to the hearth, curled a contented-looking cat. It was Mrs. Fairfax, just as I had imagined her-except that she looked much friendlier than I had hoped.

“How do you do, my dear?” she said. “I'm afraid you've had a long journey-John drives so slowly-and you must be freezing. Come to the fireside.”

“Mrs. Fairfax?”

“Yes, that's me,” she said. She got up and conducted me to her own chair, where she helped me with my shawl and bonnet strings.

“Please, you do not have to…”

“Oh, it's no trouble! Your hands are almost numbed with cold. Leah, bring Miss Eyre something hot to drink, and a sandwich or two. Here are the keys of the storeroom.”

She was so kind and welcoming, it was as if I were a visiting lady, not the new governess. And I anticipated only coldness and stiffness. I felt rather confused at being the object of more attention than I had ever before received.

“Will I have the pleasure of seeing Miss Fairfax tonight?” I asked.

“Miss Fairfax? Oh, you mean Miss Varens! Varens is the name of your future pupil.”

“Then she is not your daughter?”

“No, no-I have no family,” said Mrs. Fairfax.

I wanted to know how Miss Varens was connected with her, but I remembered it was not polite to ask too many questions.

“I am so glad you have come; it will be quite pleasant living here now with a companion. It's lovely here anyway, of course-this is a fine old house, and very respectable-but it can get dreary in the wintertime, especially when one is alone. Leah's a nice girl, and John and Mary are good people, but they're servants and keep to themselves. One needs someone intelligent to talk to! You know, all last winter, I swear not a soul came to the house but the butcher and the postman with their deliveries. I felt quite cut off. The spring and summer were more pleasant, of course, and then, just recently, Adèle arrived with her nurse. A child always livens up a house. And now you are here too, I'm sure I'll be quite content!”

My heart warmed as I listened to her talking of friendship and conversation. I wished with all my heart that I could be as good a friend as she hoped.

“But I'll not keep you up any longer,” she said. “It's midnight, and I'm sure you're quite exhausted. I'll show you to your room. I've given you one near to mine, at the back of the house [20]  I've given you one near to mine, at the back of the house. – Я выделила для вас комнату рядом с моей, в задней части дома. . It's quite small, but I think you'll like it better than the big rooms at the front.”

I agreed I was very tired, and we went upstairs. Mrs. Fairfax opened the door to my room, which was small, but welcoming. After a long journey I was now at last in safe haven. I was too tired to stay awake any longer. I quickly unpacked my things, and within minutes I was in a deep sleep.

When I woke up, I thought that a brighter era of life was beginning for me, one that was to have its flowers and pleasures, as well as its thorns and toils. I dressed myself with care. I wished, as I often had before, that I wasn't so small and plain. I wished I were taller and prettier. Meanwhile, I was pale, little and had irregular features.

I left my room tidy and went downstairs. There was no one around, I walked through the hall, taking in the paintings, the bronze lamps and the clock. The front door stood half-open, so I stepped outside and across the dewy lawn into the sunshine, and looked up at the house. Now I looked respectable enough to appear in front of Mrs. Fairfax and my new pupil.

I descended the slippery steps, then I reached the hall. I looked at some pictures on the walls and at a great clock whose case was of oak curiously carved. Everything seemed so luxurious to me though I was so little accustomed to luxury. I looked out of the open window. A row of old thorn trees divided the grounds from the meadows all around-they must have given the house its name [21]  they must have given the house its name – наверняка дом назвали в их честь . In the distance there were moors, and on a nearby hilltop I could see a little village with a church.

I was yet enjoying the calm prospect and pleasant fresh air, when that lady appeared at the door.

“What! out already?” she said. “I see you're an early riser! So, how do you like Thornfield?”

“I like it very much.”

“It is a pretty place,” she said. “But I fear it will get out of order, unless Mr. Rochester resides here permanently.”

“Mr. Rochester!” I exclaimed. “Who is he?”

“The owner of Thornfield,” she said. “Did you not know he was called Rochester?”

“No. I thought Thornfield belonged to you.”

“To me? Bless you, child!” she laughed. “No, I'm just the housekeeper, the manager! I am distantly related to the Rochesters by the mother's side, or at least my husband was. But this connection is nothing to me. I consider myself an ordinary housekeeper and him my employer.”

I felt better pleased than ever. The equality between her and me was real.

“And the little girl-my pupil?”

“She is Mr. Rochester's ward. He asked me to find a teacher for her. He wants her to be brought up here, in-shire.”

As I was thinking about this discovery, a little girl, followed by her nurse, came running up the lawn. My pupil was quite a child, perhaps seven or eight years old, with a pale, small-featured face, and curls to her waist.

“Good morning, Miss Adèle,” said Mrs. Fairfax. “Come and speak to the lady who is to teach you, and to make you a clever woman some day.”

“Bonjour,” said Adèle, and turned to her nurse, talking excitedly in French. She came and shook hand with me when she heard, that I was her governess.

“Are they foreigners?” I inquired, amazed at hearing the French language.

“The nurse is a foreigner, and Adèle was born in France. I believe, she had never left it till within six months ago. When she first came here, she could speak no English. She can shift between the languages now but I don't understand her, she mixes it so with French. But it will be no problem to you, won't it?”

Fortunately I had been taught French by a French lady, and I had talked with Madame Pierrot as often as I could. Now I could easily communicate with my pupil. When Adèle heard I could speak French, she replied briefly but then started to speak fluently and complimented my skills. “You speak my language as well as Mr. Rochester does: I can talk to you as I can to him, and so can Sophie. She will be glad: nobody here understands her: Madame Fairfax is all English,” she said.