A Little Princess / Маленькая принцесса. А1

“Her eyes are such an unusual green color. She's not prettylike other girls. But she makes you want to look at her.”

Sara was sitting quietly in her seat near Miss Minchin's desk. She looked back quietly at the children who looked at her. She wondered what they were thinking of.

“Young ladies,” she said, “I wish to introduce you to your new companion.” All the little girls stood up, and Sara rose also. “She just came to us from far away-in fact, from India. As soon as lessons are over you must make each other's acquaintance.

”

The pupils bowed ceremoniously and then they sat down.

“Sara,” said Miss Minchin in her teacher manner, “come here to me.”

Sara went to her politely.

“As your papa hired a French maid for you,” she began, “I believe that he wants you to learn French.”

“I think he hired her,” Sara said awkwardly, “because he-he thought I would like her, Miss Minchin.”

“I believe you always think that things are done because you like them,” said Miss Minchin, with a slightly sour smile.

“My impression is that your papa wished you to learn French.”

If Sara wasn't so shy she would explain everything immediately. The fact was that her mother was French, and Captain Crewe loved her language. So it happened that Sara always heard it and was familiar with it.

“The French master, Monsieur Dufarge, will be here in a few minutes,” said Miss Minchin with polite tartness. “Take this book and look at it until he arrives.

”

Sara's cheeks felt warm. She went back to her seat and opened the book.

Monsieur Dufarge arrived very shortly afterward. He was a very nice, intelligent, middle-aged Frenchman.

“Is this a new pupil for me, madame?” he said to Miss Minchin. “I hope that is my good fortune.”

“Her papa-Captain Crewe-believes very strongly that she should learn the language. But I am afraid she does not want to learn,” said Miss Minchin.

Little Sara stood up. She felt rather unhappy, as if she were almost in disgrace.

She looked up into Monsieur Dufarge's face with her big, green-gray eyes. She began to explain herself quite simply in pretty and fluent French. She explained she did not learn French exactly-not out of books-but her papa and other people always spoke it to her. Monsieur Dufarge began to smile.

“Ah, madame,” he said, “there is not much I can teach her. She did not learn French; she is French. Her accent is perfect.