Читать книгу Five Minute Stories - Richards Laura Elizabeth Howe, Laura Richards - Страница 21

There was only one chapter more to finish the book. Bell did want very much indeed to finish it, and to make sure that the princess got out of the enchanted wood all right, and that the golden prince met her, riding on a jet-black charger and leading a snow-white palfrey with a silver saddle for her, as the fairy had promised he would.

She did want to finish it, and it seemed very hard that she should be interrupted every minute.

First it was dear Mamma calling for a glass of water from her sofa in the next room, and of course Bell sprang with alacrity to answer that call.

But then baby came, with a scratched finger to be tied up, and then Willy boy wanted some more tail for his kite, and he could not find any paper, and his string had got all tangled up.

Then came little Carrie, and she had no buttons small enough for her dolly’s frock, and did sister think she had any in her work-basket?

So sister looked, and Carrie looked, too, and between them they upset the basket, and the spools rolled over the floor and under the chairs, as if they were playing a game; and the gray kitten caught her best spool of gold-colored floss, and had a delightful time with it, and got it all mixed up with her claws so that she couldn’t help herself, and Bell had to cut off yards and yards of the silk.

At last it was settled, and the little girl supplied with buttons, and Bell sank back again on the window-seat, so glad that she hadn’t been impatient, and had seen how funny the kitten looked, so that she could laugh instead of scold about the silk.

“And when the golden prince saw the Princess Merveille, he took her hand and kissed it, for it was like the purest ivory and delicately shaped. And he said – ”

Tinkle! tinkle! went the door-bell, and Bell, with a long sigh, laid down the book and went to the door, for Mary was out. It was old Mr. Grimshaw.

“Good-day, miss!” he said, with old-fashioned courtesy, “I have come to borrow the third volume of ‘Paley’s Evidences.’ I met your worthy father, and he was good enough to say that you would find the book for me. I am of the opinion that he mentioned the right-hand corner of the third shelf in some bookcase; I do not rightly remember in which room.”

Bell showed the old gentleman into the study and brought him a chair, and looked in the right-hand corners of all the shelves; then she looked in the left-hand corners; then she looked in the middle; then she looked on Papa’s desk, and in it and under it.

Then she looked on the mantel-piece, and in the cupboard, and in the chairs, for there was no knowing where dear Papa would put a book down when his thinking-cap was on. All the time Mr. Grimshaw was delivering a lecture on Paley, and telling her on what points he disagreed with him, and why; and Bell felt as if a teetotum were going round and round inside her head.

At last, in lifting Papa’s dressing-gown, which hung on the back of a chair, she felt something square and heavy in one of the pockets; and —there was the third volume of “Paley’s Evidences.”

She handed it to Mr. Grimshaw with her prettiest smile, and he went away thinking she was a very nice, well-mannered little girl.

And so she was; but – oh dear! when she got back to the window-seat the daylight was nearly gone.

Still, the west was very bright, and perhaps she could just find out.

“And he said, ‘Princess, my heart is yours! Therefore, I pray you, accept my hand, also, and with it my kingdom of Grendalma, which stretches from sea to sea. Ivory palaces shall be yours, and thrones of gold; mantles of peacock feathers, with many chests of precious stones.’ So the princess – ”

“Bell!” called Mamma from the next room. “It is too late to read, dear! Blindman’s Holiday, you know, is the most dangerous time for the eyes. So shut the book, like a dear daughter!”

Bell shut the book, of course; but a cloud came over her pleasant face, and two little cross sticks began beating a tattoo on her heart.

Just at that moment came voices under the window, – Carrie and Willy boy, talking earnestly. “Would a princess be very pretty, do you suppose, Willy? prettier than Bell?”

“Ho!” said Willy, “who cares for ‘pretty?’ She wouldn’t be half so nice as Bell. Why, none of the other fellows’ sisters – ”

They passed out of hearing; and even so the cloud passed away from Bell’s brow, and she jumped up and shook her head at herself, and ran to give Mamma a kiss, and ask if she would like her tea.