Хорошие жёны / Good wives. Уровень 3

“Sallie Moffat has four servants,” began Amy.

“If Meg has four, the house won’t hold them,” said Jo.

“Sallie isn’t a poor man’s wife. Meg and John begin humbly,” said Mrs. March.

“Yes, Mother. Do you know I like this room most of all in my baby house,” added Meg, a minute after, as they went upstairs and she looked into her well-stored linen closet[5 - linen closet – бельевая].

Beth was there. She was laying the snowy piles smoothly on the shelves.

“This is a setout that will last me all my days.

” Meg looked quite contented.

A tall, broad-shouldered young fellow came down the road, walked over the low fence. It was Laurie.

“Here I am, Mother! This is for Mrs. John Brooke, with congratulations and compliments. Bless you, Beth! What a spectacle you are, Jo. Amy, you are too handsome for a single lady.”

As Laurie spoke, he delivered a brown paper parcel to Meg, pulled Beth’s hair ribbon, and stared at Jo’s big pinafore. Everyone began to talk.

“Where is John?” asked Meg anxiously.

“Stopped to get the license[6 - имеется в виду лицензия на венчание без церковного оглашения] for tomorrow, ma’am.”

“Who won the last match, Teddy?” inquired Jo.

“We won, of course.”

“How is the lovely Miss Randal?” asked Amy with a significant smile.

“More cruel than ever.”

“Undo the bundle, Meg,” said Beth.

“It’s a useful thing in case of fire or thieves,” observed Laurie, as a watchman’s rattle[7 - watchman’s rattle – трещотка сторожа] appeared, amid the laughter of the girls.

“When will you grow up, Laurie?” asked Meg in a matronly tone.

“I’m doing my best, ma’am,” responded the young gentleman, whose head was about level with the little chandelier. “Listen, Jo, you’ll marry next.”

The First Wedding

The June roses over the porch were awake bright and early on that morning, like friendly little neighbors.

Meg looked very like a rose herself, with a charm more beautiful than beauty. So she made her wedding gown herself. Her sisters braided up her pretty hair, and the only ornaments she wore were the lilies of the valley, which �her John’ liked best of all the flowers that grew.

“You look just like our own dear Meg. And you are very sweet and lovely! I want to hug, but I’m afraid to crumple your dress,” cried Amy.