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- Джордж Элиот
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- Стр. 29/572
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Mr
.
Brooke
threw
his
head
and
shoulders
backward
as
if
some
one
had
thrown
a
light
missile
at
him
.
Dorothea
immediately
felt
some
self
-
rebuke
,
and
said
—
"
I
mean
in
the
light
of
a
husband
.
He
is
very
kind
,
I
think
—
really
very
good
about
the
cottages
.
A
well
-
meaning
man
.
"
"
But
you
must
have
a
scholar
,
and
that
sort
of
thing
?
Well
,
it
lies
a
little
in
our
family
.
I
had
it
myself
—
that
love
of
knowledge
,
and
going
into
everything
—
a
little
too
much
—
it
took
me
too
far
;
though
that
sort
of
thing
doesn
’
t
often
run
in
the
female
-
line
;
or
it
runs
underground
like
the
rivers
in
Greece
,
you
know
—
it
comes
out
in
the
sons
.
Clever
sons
,
clever
mothers
.
I
went
a
good
deal
into
that
,
at
one
time
.
However
,
my
dear
,
I
have
always
said
that
people
should
do
as
they
like
in
these
things
,
up
to
a
certain
point
.
I
couldn
’
t
,
as
your
guardian
,
have
consented
to
a
bad
match
.
But
Casaubon
stands
well
:
his
position
is
good
.
I
am
afraid
Chettam
will
be
hurt
,
though
,
and
Mrs
.
Cadwallader
will
blame
me
.
"
That
evening
,
of
course
,
Celia
knew
nothing
of
what
had
happened
.
She
attributed
Dorothea
’
s
abstracted
manner
,
and
the
evidence
of
further
crying
since
they
had
got
home
,
to
the
temper
she
had
been
in
about
Sir
James
Chettam
and
the
buildings
,
and
was
careful
not
to
give
further
offence
:
having
once
said
what
she
wanted
to
say
,
Celia
had
no
disposition
to
recur
to
disagreeable
subjects
.
It
had
been
her
nature
when
a
child
never
to
quarrel
with
any
one
—
only
to
observe
with
wonder
that
they
quarrelled
with
her
,
and
looked
like
turkey
-
cocks
;
whereupon
she
was
ready
to
play
at
cat
’
s
cradle
with
them
whenever
they
recovered
themselves
.
And
as
to
Dorothea
,
it
had
always
been
her
way
to
find
something
wrong
in
her
sister
’
s
words
,
though
Celia
inwardly
protested
that
she
always
said
just
how
things
were
,
and
nothing
else
:
she
never
did
and
never
could
put
words
together
out
of
her
own
head
.
But
the
best
of
Dodo
was
,
that
she
did
not
keep
angry
for
long
together
.
Now
,
though
they
had
hardly
spoken
to
each
other
all
the
evening
,
yet
when
Celia
put
by
her
work
,
intending
to
go
to
bed
,
a
proceeding
in
which
she
was
always
much
the
earlier
,
Dorothea
,
who
was
seated
on
a
low
stool
,
unable
to
occupy
herself
except
in
meditation
,
said
,
with
the
musical
intonation
which
in
moments
of
deep
but
quiet
feeling
made
her
speech
like
a
fine
bit
of
recitative
—
"
Celia
,
dear
,
come
and
kiss
me
,
"
holding
her
arms
open
as
she
spoke
.
Celia
knelt
down
to
get
the
right
level
and
gave
her
little
butterfly
kiss
,
while
Dorothea
encircled
her
with
gentle
arms
and
pressed
her
lips
gravely
on
each
cheek
in
turn
.
"
Don
’
t
sit
up
,
Dodo
,
you
are
so
pale
to
-
night
:
go
to
bed
soon
,
"
said
Celia
,
in
a
comfortable
way
,
without
any
touch
of
pathos
.
"
No
,
dear
,
I
am
very
,
very
happy
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
fervently
.
