Wingless Bird
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– How beautiful! – Vivian exclaimed with genuine delight: she had never seen so many flowers in her life, and many of them were even unfamiliar to her modest knowledge of botany.
Jane smiled broadly: how nice it was to see this beautiful miss happy!
– Jane, there you are! – Suddenly there was a loud female voice, and turning round the girls saw a young maid coming towards them.
– That's Emily, and she's a maid too," Jane hastened to explain to her.
– How many servants does my aunt have? – Vivian asked.
– 'A great many, Miss Vivian. A house this big, and a garden and park like this, requires a lot of labour. – Jane stood patiently waiting for Emily, who was walking at a quick, nervous pace, to reach her and tell her what she needed from her, Jane.
– Jane! Mr. Brown is grumbling and looking all over for you! – said Emily, slightly out of breath, and then crouched down before Vivian in a deep curtsy: 'Good day, miss!
– A fine day!" said Vivian in a friendly tone, feeling Emily's gaze fixed on her, full of curiosity. She was well aware of the impression her angelic appearance made on others and passers-by, and was not at all uncomfortable with the maid's insistent attention.
"Let her admire it. Servants love handsome gentlemen," thought the guest indifferently, and purposely curved her red plump lips in a charming smile.
– What a pity you can't keep me company, Jane," she said to the girl. – 'But I'm sure Mr. Brown…Who is this Mr. Brown?
– The butler, miss! – Emily answered readily, ahead of her friend, who had already opened her mouth to reply.
Jane cast Emily a displeased look: having met Miss Vivian only fifteen minutes ago, she was already jealous of her attention to the other servants.
– 'Don't keep Mr. Brown waiting. Come back to me as soon as you're free. In the meantime, I'll take a stroll through this magical garden and pick myself a bouquet," Vivian said, removing her white gloves from her hands.
The maids made a curtsy and hurried into the house, while Vivian continued her slow walk through her aunt's garden. Walking along the stone paths, in a sea of flowers, Vivian pondered hard.
"The new Earl of Cranford is no longer free! Aunt Beatrice with such a pleased face told of his family! Married! Three children! Perhaps we should devise a new plan and find a new target. My cousin Anthony is very good-looking, but alas, he is only the youngest son. – Thoughts were whirling through the fiery-haired girl's head at the speed of light. She picked the prettiest, most colourful flowers and put them in a bouquet. – I'll have to write to them. They'll be upset… It's all right, London is rich in suitors, and the season has only just begun… But good God, what a heat! I wish I didn't burn in the sun!"
Vivian brushed away a few drops of sweat from her high, white forehead with her fingers. Like all redheads, her delicate skin turned red and sometimes blistered at the slightest contact with the sun's rays. But she should always remain dazzling, because the girl knew the bitter truth: if you are poor, beauty is your only wealth.
– Don't forget your hat, my dear cousin. In this heat, in the sun, without a hat, you may get sick. – Suddenly she heard the voice of her cousin Mr. Cranford behind her.
– Alas, my favourite hat is gone: it was blown away by the wind while I was admiring the sea," she replied, with a slight annoyance at her embarrassment. She did not turn round to Anthony: he was of little interest to her, both as a man and as a prospective bridegroom. There was no need for her to put her charms to work.
– It must be a great loss. You girls always take the loss of even easily replaceable things to heart," Anthony smiled. He had come up to his cousin and could now admire the profile of her face.
– You are right, dear cousin: we girls are so frivolous," said Vivian out of politeness, but not out of any desire to keep the conversation going, still without dignifying her cousin with a glance.
– What a beautiful bouquet. Did you make it? – Anthony asked: he was too shrewd not to notice his cousin's indifference to him. But he mistook it for fatigue: the beautiful guest had spent many hours in the carriage, and naturally it had taken its toll on her health.
– That's right, dear cousin, I'll do it myself," Vivian answered him, as she bent to pick a large red rosebud, but pricked her finger on the sharp thorns and gave an involuntary shriek.
– Allow me. – Anthony carefully plucked the bud she had chosen and held it out to her cousin. She accepted it readily.
Their fingers touched, and Vivian, without knowing why, blushed.
"How sweet and modest she is," went through Anthony's mind.
– Thank you, Mr. Cranford," Vivian said quietly, and added a rose to her bouquet.
– I don't think I would be wrong in assuming that you like flowers," her cousin suddenly smiled broadly.
"So what of it?" – the girl thought unhappily, but said aloud: – How can one not love flowers? Is there anyone who is completely indifferent to these beautiful creatures?
– Alas, such people do exist. But, as you have seen, Greenhall is not indifferent to flowers. My mother planned the garden herself, and every flower grows exactly where she told it to.
– Your mother has excellent taste.
– You are like a flower yourself, my dear cousin. A bright, flaming flower," Anthony said earnestly, and was pleased to see his cousin's neck and face glow again.
Vivian could not find words: this handsome young man was so gallant! He must be extremely romantic, and London beauties simply fall at his feet.
– My dear cousin, your words are so sweet. But, please, beware of saying them in front of your mother: she may misinterpret them," said the girl, gravely: "I would not have my aunt think that she, Vivian, wished to take possession of her son's heart and soul!
– There is not a drop of romance in my mother's heart," Anthony reassured her with irony in his voice. – And, please, call me Anthony. After all, we are rather close relatives.
– Whatever you say, Anthony. – Vivian's face lit up with a broad, sincere smile: it turned out that her cousin was not so bad! Perhaps they could be friends?