Дэвид Копперфильд

I Become Neglected, and Am Provided for

           PerhapsitwasbecauselittleEm’lywasnotathome.Iknewthewaybywhichshewouldcome,andpresentlyfoundmyselfstrollingalongthepathtomeether.

           Afigureappearedinthedistancebeforelong,andIsoonknewittobeEm’ly,whowasalittlecreaturestillinstature,thoughshewasgrown.Butwhenshedrewnearer,andIsawherblueeyeslookingbluer,andherdimpledfacelookingbrighter,andherwholeselfprettierandgayer,acuriousfeelingcameovermethatmademepretendnottoknowher,andpassbyasifIwerelookingatsomethingalongwayoff.Ihavedonesuchathingsinceinlaterlife,orIammistaken.

           LittleEm’lydidn’tcareabit.Shesawmewellenough;butinsteadofturningroundandcallingafterme,ranawaylaughing.Thisobligedmetorunafterher,andsheransofastthatwewereverynearthecottagebeforeIcaughther.

           ‘Oh,it’syou,isit?’saidlittleEm’ly.

           ‘Why,youknewwhoitwas,Em’ly,’saidI.

           ‘Anddidn’tYOUknowwhoitwas?’saidEm’ly.Iwasgoingtokissher,butshecoveredhercherrylipswithherhands,andsaidshewasn’tababynow,andranaway,laughingmorethanever,intothehouse.

           Sheseemedtodelightinteasingme,whichwasachangeinherIwonderedatverymuch.Theteatablewasready,andourlittlelockerwasputoutinitsoldplace,butinsteadofcomingtositbyme,shewentandbestowedhercompanyuponthatgrumblingMrs.Gummidge:andonMr.

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