Маленькие женщины / Little Women. Уровень 3

“Don't know how. Too stupid to learn, but I love music dearly.”

So Laurie played and Jo listened. He played remarkably well and she wished Beth could hear him.

“That will do, that will do, young lady. Too many sugarplums are not good for him. His music isn't bad, but I hope he will do as well in more important things. I hope you'll come again. My respects to your mother. Good night, Doctor Jo.”

He shook hands kindly, but looked as if something did not please him. When they got into the hall, Jo asked Laurie if she had said something wrong. He shook his head.

“No, it was me. He doesn't like to hear me play.”

“Why not?”

“I'll tell you some day.”

“Take care of yourself, won't you?”

“Yes, but you will come again, I hope?”

“If you promise to come and see us after you are well.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Laurie!”

“Good night, Jo, good night!”

Chapter six

Beth finds the palace beautiful

The big house seemed like a palace, and Beth found it very hard to pass the lions[15 - to pass the lions – «пройти львов», перешагнуть через преграду]. Old Mr. Laurence was the biggest one, but after he had called, said something funny or kind to each one of the girls, nobody was afraid of him, except Beth.

Though yearning for the grand piano, Beth could not pluck up courage to go to the ‘Mansion of Bliss', as Meg called it. She went once with Jo, but the old gentleman, not being aware of her infirmity, stared at her so hard from under his heavy eyebrows, and said “Hey!” so loud, that he frightened her. She ran away, declaring she would never go there any more, not even for the piano. No persuasions or enticements could overcome her fear, until, this became knows to Mr. Laurence. He then set about[16 - set about – начал] mending matters.

During one of the brief visits he made, he slowly led the conversation to music, and talked away about great singers whom he had seen, fine organs he had heard, and told such charming anecdotes that Beth found it impossible to stay in her corner. As if the idea had just occurred to him, he said to Mrs. March…

“Wouldn't some of your girls like to run over, and practice on a piano now and then, just to keep it in tune, you know, ma'am?”

Beth took a step forward, and pressed her hands tightly together to keep from clapping them. Before Mrs. March could reply, Mr. Laurence went on with an odd little nod and smile…

“They needn't see or speak to anyone, but run in at any time.”

He rose. “Please, tell the young ladies what I say, and if they don't care to come, why, never mind.”

Beth looked up at him with a face full of gratitude, “Oh sir, they do care, very very much!”

“Are you the musical girl?” he asked.

“I'm Beth. I love it dearly, and I'll come, if you are quite sure nobody will hear me, and be disturbed,” she added, fearing to be rude.

“Not a soul, my dear. The house is empty half the day, so come and play as much as you like.”

“How kind you are, sir!”

Beth blushed like a rose and gave the hand a grateful squeeze because she had no words to thank him for the precious gift he had given her. The old gentleman softly stroked the hair off her forehead.

“I had a little girl once, with eyes like these. God bless you, my dear! Good day, madam.”

And away he went, in a great hurry.

Next day, Beth made her way to the drawing room where the piano stood. Quite by accident, of course, some pretty, easy music lay on the piano. With trembling fingers, Beth at last touched the great instrument, and straightway forgot her fear, herself, and everything else but the music.

After that, she went to play nearly every day. She never knew that Mr. Laurence opened his study door to hear the old-fashioned airs he liked. She never saw Laurie guard the hall to warn the servants away. She never suspected that the exercise books and new songs which she found in the rack were put there for her. So she enjoyed herself heartily.

One day, the girls called to Beth.

“Here's a letter from the old gentleman! Come quick, and read it!”

Beth hurried to them. Her sisters took her to the parlor, all pointing and all saying at once, “Look there! Look there!” Beth did look, and turned pale with delight and surprise. There stood a little cabinet piano. A letter was lying on the lid.

“For me?” gasped Beth.

“Yes, all for you, my precious! Isn't it splendid of him? Don't you think he's the dearest old man in the world? We didn't open the letter, but we are dying to know what he says,” cried Jo.

“You read it! I can't! Oh, it is too lovely!” and Beth hid her face in Jo's apron, quite upset by her present.

Jo opened the paper and began to laugh, for the first words she saw were…

“Miss March: “Dear Madam – “

“How nice it sounds! I wish someone would write to me so!” said Amy, who thought the old-fashioned address very elegant.

“‘I thank you for the slippers you gave me,'” continues Jo. “I like to pay my debts, so I know you will allow ‘the old gentleman' to send you something which once belonged to the little grand daughter he lost. With hearty thanks and best wishes, your grateful friend and humble servant, ‘JAMES LAURENCE'.”

“Try it, honey. Let's hear the sound of it,” said Hannah, who always took a share in the family joys and sorrows.

So Beth tried it, and everyone pronounced it the most remarkable piano ever heard.

Chapter seven

Amy's valley of humiliation

Amy was rather late at school, but could not resist the temptation of displaying a brown-paper parcel. During the next few minutes the rumor that Amy March had got twenty-four delicious limes and was going to treat circulated through her friends and became quite overwhelming. Katy Brown invited her to her next party on the spot. Mary Kingsley insisted on lending her watch till recess, and Jenny Snow promptly buried the hatchet[17 - buried the hatchet – похоронил топор вражды] and offered to furnish answers to some sums. But Amy instantly crushed ‘that Snow girl's’ hopes by the withering telegram, “You needn't be so polite all of a sudden, for you won't get any.”

Alas, alas! The revengeful Snow turned the tables[18 - turned the tables – обернуть в другое русло] with disastrous success. During the lesson, under pretense of asking an important question, she informed Mr. Davis, the teacher, that Amy March had pickled limes in her desk. Now Mr. Davis had declared limes a contraband article.

Soon as he heard the word ‘limes', his face flushed.

“Young ladies, attention, if you please!”