Фрэнсис Элиза Ходжсон Бёрнетт

A Little Princess / Маленькая принцесса. А1


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suddenly; perhaps we may catch her.”

      Ermengarde didn't know what Sara was talking about. Sara suddenly turned the handle, and opened the door wide. The room behind the door was quite neat and quiet. Ermengarde saw a gorgeous doll sitting in a chair before the fire. Captain Crewe bought that doll for Sara before he left to India. Sara named the doll Emily.

      “Oh, she sat down to her seat before we could see her!” Sara explained.

      Ermengarde looked from her to the doll and back again.

      “Can she-walk?” she asked in a surprise.

      “Yes,” answered Sara. “At least I believe she can. At least I pretend I believe she can. Don't you ever pretend things?”

      “No,” said Ermengarde. “Never. I-tell me about it.”

      Sara sat upon the hearth-rug and told her strange things. She told stories of the voyage, and stories of India; and about the doll, Emily, too. She told how her papa bought it for her and how she believed it comes to life when no one sees. Ermengarde saw Sara became sad in the face.

      “Have you a-a pain?” Ermengarde asked.

      “I just miss my papa,” Sara answered. “I love him more than anything in the world. But I promised him I would bear it. And I will.”

      Ermengarde was in a surprise of her strength. Since that moment, they became best friends, just like Lavinia and Jessie.

Glossary

      catch (cauɡht, cauɡht) [kæʧ] – v ловить

      cry [kraɪ] – n крик; v кричать, воскликнуть; плакать

      fire [faɪǝ] – n огонь; пожар; камин

      ɡasp [ɡɑ:sp] – n перехват дыхания; затруднённое дыхание; сильный резкий вдох; v задыхаться; тяжело дышать

      pretend [prɪ'tend] – v притворяться

      Chapter 4

      Becky

      Ermengarde was not the only friend Sara made in the school. Smaller children especially loved Sara for her mother-like behavior. She could calm any crying child by just talking to them. They loved her made up stories about fairies and knights, kings and queens. Children used to gather around her to listen to her. And when she told her stories, she looked very interested herself.

      “When I tell it,” she would say, “it doesn't seem as if it was only made up. It seems more real than you are-more real than the schoolroom. I feel I can become all the people in the story-one after the other. It is strange.”

      It was almost two years of Sara being in Miss Minchin's school. She was sitting in the midst of a group of listeners in a corner of the schoolroom telling one of her stories. It was a wonderful story about a princess who was loved by a Prince Merman, and went to live with him in shining caves under the sea. Sara noticed that the servant girl who swept the hearth did her job rather slowly. Sara was smart enough to see that the girl was deeply interested in her story. She raised her voice and continued. Suddenly the hearth brush fell from the work-roughened hand. Lavinia Herbert looked round.

      “That girl was listening,” she said.

      Sara felt rather angry.

      “I knew she was listening,” she said. “Why shouldn't she?”

      “Well,” Lavinia remarked, “I do not know whether your mamma would like you to tell stories to servant girls, but I know my mamma wouldn't like me

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