Маленькая принцесса
Becky
Onthisparticularafternoonshehadbeentakingherdancinglesson,andtheafternoononwhichthedancingmasterappearedwasratheragrandoccasionattheseminary,thoughitoccurredeveryweek.Thepupilswereattiredintheirprettiestfrocks,andasSaradancedparticularlywell,shewasverymuchbroughtforward,andMariettewasrequestedtomakeherasdiaphanousandfineaspossible.
Todayafrockthecolorofarosehadbeenputonher,andMariettehadboughtsomerealbudsandmadeherawreathtowearonherblacklocks.Shehadbeenlearninganew,delightfuldanceinwhichshehadbeenskimmingandflyingabouttheroom,likealargerose-coloredbutterfly,andtheenjoymentandexercisehadbroughtabrilliant,happyglowintoherface.
Whensheenteredtheroom,shefloatedinwithafewofthebutterflysteps—andtheresatBecky,noddinghercapsidewaysoffherhead.
"Oh!"criedSara,softly,whenshesawher."Thatpoorthing!"
Itdidnotoccurtohertofeelcrossatfindingherpetchairoccupiedbythesmall,dingyfigure.Totellthetruth,shewasquitegladtofinditthere.Whentheill-usedheroineofherstorywakened,shecouldtalktoher.Shecrepttowardherquietly,andstoodlookingather.Beckygavealittlesnore.
"Iwishshe’dwakenherself,"Sarasaid."Idon’tliketowakenher.ButMissMinchinwouldbecrossifshefoundout.I’lljustwaitafewminutes."
Shetookaseatontheedgeofthetable,andsatswingingherslim,rose-coloredlegs,andwonderingwhatitwouldbebesttodo.MissAmeliamightcomeinatanymoment,andifshedid,Beckywouldbesuretobescolded.
"Butsheissotired,"shethought."Sheissotired!"
