Маленькая принцесса
Becky
ShehadbeenatMissMinchin’sschoolabouttwoyearswhen,onefoggywinter’safternoon,asshewasgettingoutofhercarriage,comfortablywrappedupinherwarmestvelvetsandfursandlookingverymuchgranderthansheknew,shecaughtsight,asshecrossedthepavement,ofadingylittlefigurestandingontheareasteps,andstretchingitsnecksothatitswide-openeyesmightpeeratherthroughtherailings.Somethingintheeagernessandtimidityofthesmudgyfacemadeherlookatit,andwhenshelookedshesmiledbecauseitwasherwaytosmileatpeople.
Buttheownerofthesmudgyfaceandthewide-openeyesevidentlywasafraidthatsheoughtnottohavebeencaughtlookingatpupilsofimportance.Shedodgedoutofsightlikeajack-in-the-boxandscurriedbackintothekitchen,disappearingsosuddenlythatifshehadnotbeensuchapoorlittleforlornthing,Sarawouldhavelaughedinspiteofherself.Thatveryevening,asSarawassittinginthemidstofagroupoflistenersinacorneroftheschoolroomtellingoneofherstories,theverysamefiguretimidlyenteredtheroom,carryingacoalboxmuchtooheavyforher,andkneltdownuponthehearthrugtoreplenishthefireandsweepuptheashes.
Shewascleanerthanshehadbeenwhenshepeepedthroughthearearailings,butshelookedjustasfrightened.Shewasevidentlyafraidtolookatthechildrenorseemtobelistening.Sheputonpiecesofcoalcautiouslywithherfingerssothatshemightmakenodisturbingnoise,andshesweptaboutthefireironsverysoftly.ButSarasawintwominutesthatshewasdeeplyinterestedinwhatwasgoingon,andthatshewasdoingherworkslowlyinthehopeofcatchingawordhereandthere.Andrealizingthis,sheraisedhervoiceandspokemoreclearly.
