Шарлотта Бронте

VILLETTE


Скачать книгу

       Charlotte Brontë

      VILLETTE

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2018 OK Publishing

      ISBN 978-80-272-4565-9

       Chapter I. Bretton.

       Chapter II. Paulina.

       Chapter III. The Playmates.

       Chapter IV. Miss Marchmont.

       Chapter V. Turning a New Leaf.

       Chapter VI. London.

       Chapter VII. Villette.

       Chapter VIII. Madame Beck.

       Chapter IX. Isidore.

       Chapter X. Dr John.

       Chapter XI. The Portress’s Cabinet.

       Chapter XII. The Casket.

       Chapter XIII. A Sneeze Out of Season.

       Chapter XIV. The Fête.

       Chapter XV. The Long Vacation.

       Chapter XVI. Auld Lang Syne.

       Chapter XVII. La Terrasse.

       Chapter XVIII. We Quarrel.

       Chapter XIX. The Cleopatra.

       Chapter XX. The Concert.

       Chapter XXI. Reaction.

       Chapter XXII. The Letter.

       Chapter XXIII. Vashti.

       Chapter XXIV. M. De Bassompierre.

       Chapter XXV. The Little Countess.

       Chapter XXVI. A Burial.

       Chapter XXVII. The Hôtel Crécy.

       Chapter XXVIII. The Watchguard.

       Chapter XXIX. Monsieur’s Fête.

       Chapter XXX. M. Paul.

       Chapter XXXI. The Dryad.

       Chapter XXXII. The First Letter.

       Chapter XXXIII. M. Paul Keeps His Promise.

       Chapter XXXIV. Malevola.

       Chapter XXXV Fraternity.

       Chapter XXXVI. The Apple of Discord.

       Chapter XXXVII. Sunshine.

       Chapter XXXVIII. Cloud.

       Chapter XXXIX. Old and New Acquaintance.

       Chapter XL. The Happy Pair.

       Chapter XLI. Faubourg Clotilde.

       Chapter XLII. Finis.

      Chapter I.

      Bretton.

       Table of Contents

      My godmother lived in a handsome house in the clean and ancient town of Bretton. Her husband’s family had been residents there for generations, and bore, indeed, the name of their birthplace — Bretton of Bretton: whether by coincidence, or because some remote ancestor had been a personage of sufficient importance to leave his name to his neighbourhood, I know not.

      When I was a girl I went to Bretton about twice a year, and well I liked the visit. The house and its inmates specially suited me. The large peaceful rooms, the well-arranged furniture, the clear wide windows, the balcony outside, looking down on a fine antique street, where Sundays and holidays seemed always to abide — so quiet was its atmosphere, so clean its pavement — these things pleased me well.

      One child in a household of grown people is usually made very much of, and in a quiet way I was a good deal taken notice of by Mrs. Bretton, who had been left a widow, with one son, before I knew her; her husband, a physician, having died while she was yet a young and handsome woman.

      She was not young, as I remember her, but she was still handsome, tall, well-made, and though dark for an Englishwoman, yet wearing always the clearness