Энн из Зеленых Крыш. Уровень 1 / Anne of Green Gables

"Take plenty of hot water,” said Marilla. "and be sure you dry them well. I'll drive over to White Sands in the afternoon and see Mrs. Spencer. You'll come with me.”

Anne washed the dishes deftly enough.

"What is the name of that geranium on the window-sill, please?”

"That's the apple-scented geranium.”

"Oh, I mean just a name you gave it yourself. Didn't you give it a name? May I call it Bonny while I'm here?”

"Why do you name it?”

"Oh, I like that – when things have names. Even if they are only geraniums. I shall call the geranium Bonny. I named that cherry-tree outside my bedroom window this morning. I called it Snow Queen because it was so white.”

"She is interesting, indeed, as Matthew says,” muttered Marilla. Then she turned to her brother. "I suppose I can have the mare and buggy this afternoon, Matthew?” said Marilla.

Matthew nodded. Marilla said grimly:

"I'll drive over to White Sands. I'll take Anne with me and Mrs. Spencer will probably make arrangements to send her back to Nova Scotia at once.”

Chapter V

Anne's History

"Do you know,” said Anne confidentially, "I want to enjoy this drive. You can nearly always enjoy things if you want. I won't think about the asylum. I'll think about the drive. We will go across the Lake of Shining Waters today, won't we?”

"We won't go over Barry's pond, if that's what you mean by your Lake of Shining Waters. We will go by the shore road[11 - shore road – прибрежная дорога].”

"Shore road sounds nice,” said Anne dreamily.

"Tell me what you know about yourself.”

"Oh, what I know about myself isn't really interesting,” said Anne eagerly. "I was eleven last March. And I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia. My father's name was Walter Shirley, and he was a teacher. My mother's name was Bertha Shirley. My mother was a teacher in the High school. They went to live in a little yellow house in Bolingbroke. My mother died of fever[12 - died of fever – умерла от лихорадки] when I was just three months old. And my father died four days afterwards from fever too. Nobody wanted me even then. It is my fate. But Mrs. Thomas took me, though she was poor and had a drunken husband. I lived with them until I was eight years old. I helped look after the children – there were four of them. Then Mr. Thomas fell under a train, and his mother offered to take Mrs. Thomas and the children, but she didn't want me. Then Mrs. Hammond took me. I lived with her in a little house among the stumps. It was a very lonesome place. Mrs. Hammond had eight children. She had twins three times. I lived with Mrs. Hammond for over two years, and then Mr. Hammond died. Mrs. Hammond divided her children among her relatives and went to the States. I went to the asylum at Hopeton, because nobody wanted to take me. I was there four months until Mrs. Spencer came.”

"Did you ever go to school?” demanded Marilla.

"Not much. I went a little the last year I stayed with Mrs. Thomas. And of course I went while I was at the asylum. I can read pretty well and I know many pieces of poetry by heart[13 - by heart – наизусть].”

"Were those women – Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hammond – good to you?” asked Marilla.

"Oh,” faltered Anne. "They wanted to be. But it's hard to have a drunken husband, you see and many children, don't you think?”

"Poor child!” thought Marilla. It was a pity to send her back.

Chapter VI

Marilla Makes Up Her Mind[14 - makes up her mind – принимает решение]

Mrs. Spencer lived in a big yellow house at White Sands Cove, and she came to the door with surprise.

"Dear, dear![15 - Dear, dear! – Боже мой!]” she exclaimed, "I'm glad to see you. How are you, Anne?”

"I'm well, thank you,” said Anne smilelessly.

"I suppose we'll stay a little,” said Marilla, "but I promised Matthew to be home early. The fact is, Mrs. Spencer, there is a queer mistake somewhere. We asked you, Matthew and I, to bring us a boy from the asylum. We told your brother Robert to tell you we wanted a boy ten or eleven years old.”

"Marilla Cuthbert, you don't say so!” said Mrs. Spencer in distress. "Why, Robert sent his daughter Nancy and she said you wanted a girl – didn't she, Flora Jane?” asked she her daughter.

"She certainly did, Miss Cuthbert,” Flora Jane nodded earnestly.

"I'm dreadful sorry,” said Mrs. Spencer. "It's too bad; but it certainly wasn't my fault, you see, Miss Cuthbert. I thought I followed your instructions. Nancy is terrible.”

"It was our own fault,” said Marilla resignedly. "Why didn't we come to you ourselves? Anyhow, can we send the child back to the asylum? I suppose they'll take her back, won't they?”

"I suppose so,” said Mrs. Spencer thoughtfully, "but I don't think it will be necessary to send her back. Mrs. Blewett was here yesterday. She wants a little girl to help her. Mrs. Peter has a large family, you know.”

Mrs. Blewett was a small, shrewish-faced woman without an ounce of superfluous flesh on her bones. She was terrible. Servant girls told fearsome tales of her temper and stinginess, and her family of pert, quarrelsome children.

"And there is Mrs. Blewett this blessed minute!” exclaimed Mrs. Spencer. "That is real lucky! Take the armchair, Miss Cuthbert. Anne, you sit here on the ottoman and don't wiggle. Let me take your hats. Flora Jane, go out and put the kettle on. Good afternoon, Mrs. Blewett. Let me introduce you two ladies. Mrs. Blewett, Miss Cuthbert.”

Anne sat mutely on the ottoman. She stared at Mrs. Blewett. Will she go with this sharp-faced, sharp-eyed woman? Anne was on the brink of tears[16 - Anne was on the brink of tears. – У Энн в глазах защипало от слёз.].

"There is a mistake about this little girl, Mrs. Blewett,” said Mrs. Spencer. "I was under the impression that Mr. and Miss Cuthbert wanted to adopt a little girl. But it seems it was a boy they wanted. So do you want to take the little girl, as you told me yesterday?”

Mrs. Blewett looked at Anne.

"How old are you and what's your name?” she demanded.

"Anne Shirley,” faltered the child, "and I'm eleven years old.”

"Humph! You don't look eleven. But you're wiry. The wiry girls are the best workers after all. Well, if I take you, you must be a good girl, you know – good and smart and respectful. No mistake about that. Miss Cuthbert, if you like I can take her right now.”

Marilla looked at Anne and softened at sight of the child's pale face with its look of mute misery – the misery of a helpless little creature who finds itself once more in the trap. Moreover, Marilla did not like Mrs. Blewett.

"Well, I don't know,” Marilla said slowly. "I haven't yet talked to Matthew. I just came over to learn about the mistake. I think I'll take her home again and talk it over with him. If we decide not to keep her, we'll bring or send her over to you tomorrow night. If we don't, you may know that she will stay with us. Will that suit you, Mrs. Blewett?”

"I suppose, yes,” said Mrs. Blewett ungraciously.

During Marilla's speech a sunrise dawned on Anne's face. First the look of despair faded out; then came a faint flush of hope. A moment later, when Mrs. Spencer and Mrs. Blewett went out she sprang up and flew across the room to Marilla.

"Oh, Miss Cuthbert, do you really say that perhaps you will let me stay at Green Gables?” she said, in a breathless whisper. "Did you really say it? Or did I only imagine that you did?”

"I think you must control that imagination of yours, Anne,” said Marilla crossly. "Yes, I said that and no more. But perhaps we will conclude to let Mrs. Blewett take you after all. She certainly needs you much more than I do.”

"I'll rather go back to the asylum than go to live with her,” said Anne passionately. "She looks exactly like a gimlet!”

"Go back and sit down quietly and hold your tongue,” Marilla said severely.

"I'll do that, if you only keep me!” said Anne.