Маленька принцеса
The Indian Gentleman
Hewassuchaprettyfellowandhadsuchrosycheeksandblueeyes,andsuchadarlinglittleroundheadcoveredwithcurls,thatSaraforgotherbasketandshabbycloakaltogether—infact,forgoteverythingbutthatshewantedtolookathimforamoment.Soshepausedandlooked.
ItwasChristmastime,andtheLargeFamilyhadbeenhearingmanystoriesaboutchildrenwhowerepoorandhadnomammasandpapastofilltheirstockingsandtakethemtothepantomime—childrenwhowere,infact,coldandthinlycladandhungry.Inthestories,kindpeople—sometimeslittleboysandgirlswithtenderhearts—invariablysawthepoorchildrenandgavethemmoneyorrichgifts,ortookthemhometobeautifuldinners.GuyClarencehadbeenaffectedtotearsthatveryafternoonbythereadingofsuchastory,andhehadburnedwithadesiretofindsuchapoorchildandgiveheracertainsixpencehepossessed,andthusprovideforherforlife.Anentiresixpence,hewassure,wouldmeanaffluenceforevermore.Ashecrossedthestripofredcarpetlaidacrossthepavementfromthedoortothecarriage,hehadthisverysixpenceinthepocketofhisveryshortman-o-wartrousers;AndjustasRosalindGladysgotintothevehicleandjumpedontheseatinordertofeelthecushionsspringunderher,hesawSarastandingonthewetpavementinhershabbyfrockandhat,withheroldbasketonherarm,lookingathimhungrily.
Hethoughtthathereyeslookedhungrybecauseshehadperhapshadnothingtoeatforalongtime.
