Аня з Авонлеї
XXI. Sweet Miss Lavendar
agirlofaboutfourteen,withafreckledface,asnubnose,amouthsowidethatitdidreallyseemasifitstretched“fromeartoear,”andtwolongbraidsoffairhairtiedwithtwoenormousbowsofblueribbon.
“IsMissLewisathome?”askedDiana.
“Yes,ma’am.Comein,ma’am.I’lltellMissLavendaryou’rehere,ma’am.She’supstairs,ma’am.”
Withthisthesmallhandmaidenwhiskedoutofsightandthegirls,leftalone,lookedaboutthemwithdelightedeyes.Theinteriorofthiswonderfullittlehousewasquiteasinterestingasitsexterior.
Theroomhadalowceilingandtwosquare,small-panedwindows,curtainedwithmuslinfrills.Allthefurnishingswereold-fashioned,butsowellanddaintilykeptthattheeffectwasdelicious.Butitmustbecandidlyadmittedthatthemostattractivefeature,totwohealthygirlswhohadjusttrampedfourmilesthroughautumnair,wasatable,setoutwithpalebluechinaandladenwithdelicacies,whilelittlegolden-huedfernsscatteredovertheclothgaveitwhatAnnewouldhavetermed“afestalair.”
“MissLavendarmustbeexpectingcompanytotea,”shewhispered.“Therearesixplacesset.Butwhatafunnylittlegirlshehas.Shelookedlikeamessengerfrompixyland.Isupposeshecouldhavetoldustheroad,butIwascurioustoseeMissLavendar.S...s...sh,she’scoming.”
AndwiththatMissLavendarLewiswasstandinginthedoorway.Thegirlsweresosurprisedthattheyforgotgoodmannersandsimplystared.Theyhadunconsciouslybeenexpectingtoseetheusualtypeofelderlyspinsterasknowntotheirexperience.
