Маленькие женщины / Little Women. Уровень 3

It was on the tip of Jo's tongue to ask, but she checked herself[6 - checked herself – остановила себя] in time and, with unusual tact, tried to find out in a round-about way.

“I suppose you are going to college soon?”

Laurie smiled. “I won't go before seventeen, anyway.”

“Aren't you but fifteen?” asked Jo, looking at the tall lad, whom she had imagined seventeen already.

“Sixteen, next month.”

“How I wish I was going to college! You don't look as if you liked it.”

“I hate it! And I don't like the way fellows do either, in this country.”

“What do you like?”

“To live in Italy, and to enjoy myself in my own way.”

Jo wanted very much to ask what his own way was, but changed the subject by saying, “That's a splendid polka! Why don't you go and try it?”

“If you will come too,” he answered.

“I can't, for I told Meg I wouldn't, because…”

“Because, what?”

“You won't tell?”

“Never!”

“Well, I have a bad trick of standing before the fire, and so I burn my frocks, and I scorched this one, and though it's nicely mended, it shows, and Meg told me to keep still so no one would see it. You may laugh, if you want to. It is funny, I know.”

But Laurie didn't laugh. He only looked down a minute, and the expression of his face puzzled Jo when he said very gently, “Never mind that. I'll tell you how we can manage. There's a long hall out there, and we can dance grandly, and no one will see us. Please come.”

Jo thanked him and gladly went. The hall was empty, and they had a grand polka, for Laurie danced well. When the music stopped, they sat down on the stairs to get their breath. That's when Meg appeared in search of her sister. She beckoned, and Jo reluctantly followed her into a side room, where she found her on a sofa, holding her foot, and looking pale.

“I've sprained my ankle. That stupid high heel turned. I can hardly stand, and I don't know how I'm ever going to get home,” she said, rocking to and fro[7 - to and fro – туда и обратно] in pain.

“I'm sorry. But I don't see what you can do, except get a carriage, or stay here all night,” answered Jo, softly rubbing the poor ankle as she spoke.

“I can't have a carriage without its costing ever so much. I dare say I can't get one at all, for most people come in their own, and it's a long way to the stable, and no one to send.”

“I'll ask Laurie. He will go,” said Jo.

“Mercy, no! Don't ask or tell anyone. I can't dance anymore, but as soon as supper is over, watch for Hannah and tell me the minute she comes. “

Jo was looking round for help when Laurie, who had heard what she said, came up and offered his grandfather's carriage, which had just come for him, he said.

“It's so early! You can't mean to go yet?” began Jo, looking relieved but hesitating to accept the offer.

“I always go early, I do, truly! Please let me take you home. It's all on my way, you know, and it rains, they say.”

They settled in the carriage. Laurie went on the box so Meg could keep her foot up, and the girls talked over their party. By the time Jo had finished telling Meg about her adventures, they were at home.

Chapter four

Burdens

“Oh, dear, how hard it does seem to go on,” sighed Meg the morning after the party. The holidays were over.

“I wish it was Christmas or New Year's all the time. Wouldn't it be fun?” answered Jo, yawning.

“We shouldn't enjoy ourselves half so much[8 - half so much – хотя бы в половину] as we do now. But it does seem so nice to have little suppers and bouquets, and go to parties.” said Meg. “Where's the use of looking nice, when no one sees me, and no one cares whether I'm pretty or not? I will grow old and ugly and sour, because I'm poor and can't enjoy my life as other girls do. It's a shame!”

She went down, wearing an injured look.

During breakfast everyone seemed rather out of sorts[9 - out of sorts – не в порядке]. Jo laughed, Meg scolded, Beth implored, and Amy cried because she couldn't remember how much nine times twelve was. Mrs. March was very busy trying to finish a letter, which must go at once[10 - must go at once – должно быть отправлено как можно быстрее].

“Girls, girls, do be quiet one minute! I must get this off by the early mail, and you distract me,” cried Mrs. March, crossing out the third spoiled sentence in her letter.

There was a momentary lull, broken by Hannah, who walked in, laid two hot turnovers on the table, and walked out again.

“Cuddle your cats and get over your headache, Bethy. Goodbye, Marmee. Let's go, Meg!” And Jo walked out of the room.

Once outside, Jo turned to Meg.

“More ungrateful wretches than we are were never seen.”

“Don't use such dreadful expressions,” replied Meg

“I like good strong words that mean something,” replied Jo.

“Call yourself any names you like, but I am not a wretch and I don't choose to be called so.”

“You're a blighted being, and decidedly cross today because you can't sit in the lap of luxury[11 - in the lap of luxury – в роскоши] all the time. Poor dear, just wait till I make my fortune, and you shall revel in carriages and ice cream and high-heeled slippers, and posies, and red-headed boys to dance with.”

“How ridiculous you are, Jo!” But Meg laughed at the nonsense and felt better in spite of herself[12 - in spite of herself – наперекор себе].

Jo gave her sister an encouraging pat on the shoulder as they parted for the day, each going a different way.

When Mr. March lost his property in trying to help an unfortunate friend, the two oldest girls begged to be allowed to do something toward their own support, at least. Margaret found a place as nursery governess and felt rich with her small salary. She found poverty harder to bear. She seldom complained, but a sense of injustice made her feel bitter toward everyone sometimes.

Jo happened to suit Aunt March, who was lame and needed an active person to wait upon her. Jo accepted the place since nothing better appeared and, to every one's surprise, got on remarkably well with her relative. There was an occasional tempest, and once Jo marched home, declaring she couldn't bear it longer, but Aunt March always cleared up quickly, and she could not refuse, for in her heart she rather liked the peppery old lady.

Part of the real attraction was a large library of fine books, which was left to dust and spiders since Uncle March died. The moment Aunt March took her nap, or was busy with company, Jo hurried to this quiet place, and devoured poetry, romance, history, travels, and pictures like a regular bookworm.

Jo's ambition was to do something very splendid. What it was, she had no idea as yet. A quick temper, sharp tongue, and restless spirit were always getting her into scrapes, and her life was a series of ups and downs. But the training she received at Aunt March's was just what she needed.

Beth was too bashful to go to school. It had been tried, but she suffered so much that it was given up, and she did her lessons at home with her father. Even when he went away, Beth went faithfully on by herself. She had six dolls she dressed every morning, for Beth was a child still and loved her pets as well as ever.