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- Аня из Авонлеи
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- Стр. 188/198
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“
It
would
be
dreadful
,
Charlotta
,
”
said
Anne
firmly
,
“
so
just
you
come
away
with
me
out
of
the
reach
of
temptation
.
”
“
I
can
’
t
do
anything
,
and
it
’
s
awful
to
hang
round
just
waiting
,
”
sighed
Charlotta
.
“
What
if
he
don
’
t
propose
after
all
,
Miss
Shirley
,
ma
’
am
?
You
can
never
be
sure
of
them
men
.
My
older
sister
,
Charlotta
the
First
,
thought
she
was
engaged
to
one
once
.
But
it
turned
out
HE
had
a
different
opinion
and
she
says
she
’
ll
never
trust
one
of
them
again
.
And
I
heard
of
another
case
where
a
man
thought
he
wanted
one
girl
awful
bad
when
it
was
really
her
sister
he
wanted
all
the
time
.
When
a
man
don
’
t
know
his
own
mind
,
Miss
Shirley
,
ma
’
am
,
how
’
s
a
poor
woman
going
to
be
sure
of
it
?
”
“
We
’
ll
go
to
the
kitchen
and
clean
the
silver
spoons
,
”
said
Anne
.
“
That
’
s
a
task
which
won
’
t
require
much
thinking
fortunately
.
.
.
for
I
COULDN
’
T
think
tonight
.
And
it
will
pass
the
time
.
”
It
passed
an
hour
.
Then
,
just
as
Anne
laid
down
the
last
shining
spoon
,
they
heard
the
front
door
shut
.
Both
sought
comfort
fearfully
in
each
other
’
s
eyes
.
“
Oh
,
Miss
Shirley
,
ma
’
am
,
”
gasped
Charlotta
,
“
if
he
’
s
going
away
this
early
there
’
s
nothing
into
it
and
never
will
be
”
They
flew
to
the
window
.
Mr
.
Irving
had
no
intention
of
going
away
.
He
and
Miss
Lavendar
were
strolling
slowly
down
the
middle
path
to
the
stone
bench
.
“
Oh
,
Miss
Shirley
,
ma
’
am
,
he
’
s
got
his
arm
around
her
waist
,
”
whispered
Charlotta
the
Fourth
delightedly
.
“
He
must
have
proposed
to
her
or
she
’
d
never
allow
it
.
”
Anne
caught
Charlotta
the
Fourth
by
her
own
plump
waist
and
danced
her
around
the
kitchen
until
they
were
both
out
of
breath
.
“
Oh
,
Charlotta
,
”
she
cried
gaily
,
“
I
’
m
neither
a
prophetess
nor
the
daughter
of
a
prophetess
but
I
’
m
going
to
make
a
prediction
.
There
’
ll
be
a
wedding
in
this
old
stone
house
before
the
maple
leaves
are
red
.
Do
you
want
that
translated
into
prose
,
Charlotta
?
”
“
No
,
I
can
understand
that
,
”
said
Charlotta
.
“
A
wedding
ain
’
t
poetry
.
Why
,
Miss
Shirley
,
ma
’
am
,
you
’
re
crying
!
What
for
?
”
