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- Стр. 44/182
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"
My
dear
Sara
,
"
she
said
,
"
Becky
is
the
scullery
maid
.
Scullery
maids
--
er
--
are
not
little
girls
.
"
It
really
had
not
occurred
to
her
to
think
of
them
in
that
light
.
Scullery
maids
were
machines
who
carried
coal
scuttles
and
made
fires
.
"
But
Becky
is
,
"
said
Sara
.
"
And
I
know
she
would
enjoy
herself
.
Please
let
her
stay
--
because
it
is
my
birthday
.
"
Miss
Minchin
replied
with
much
dignity
:
"
As
you
ask
it
as
a
birthday
favor
--
she
may
stay
.
Rebecca
,
thank
Miss
Sara
for
her
great
kindness
.
"
Becky
had
been
backing
into
the
corner
,
twisting
the
hem
of
her
apron
in
delighted
suspense
.
She
came
forward
,
bobbing
curtsies
,
but
between
Sara
's
eyes
and
her
own
there
passed
a
gleam
of
friendly
understanding
,
while
her
words
tumbled
over
each
other
.
"
Oh
,
if
you
please
,
miss
!
I
'm
that
grateful
,
miss
!
I
did
want
to
see
the
doll
,
miss
,
that
I
did
.
Thank
you
,
miss
.
And
thank
you
,
ma'am
,
"
--
turning
and
making
an
alarmed
bob
to
Miss
Minchin
--
"
for
letting
me
take
the
liberty
.
"
Miss
Minchin
waved
her
hand
again
--
this
time
it
was
in
the
direction
of
the
corner
near
the
door
.
"
Go
and
stand
there
,
"
she
commanded
.
"
Not
too
near
the
young
ladies
.
"
Becky
went
to
her
place
,
grinning
.
She
did
not
care
where
she
was
sent
,
so
that
she
might
have
the
luck
of
being
inside
the
room
,
instead
of
being
downstairs
in
the
scullery
,
while
these
delights
were
going
on
.
She
did
not
even
mind
when
Miss
Minchin
cleared
her
throat
ominously
and
spoke
again
.
