Читать Wingless Bird - Анна Морион

– Hurry, Jane! She's here! – Emily called out, and a moment later the girl herself appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her pretty thin face was radiant, and in her grey eyes sparkled the anticipation of merriment.

– How? Already? But the room isn't ready! The carpet's not cleaned! There are no flowers in the vase! – Jane exclaimed: it was to her that Lady Cranford, the mistress of the house, had entrusted the task of preparing the room for the arrival of an unexpected but extremely curious personage.

"Jane," said Lady Cranford at breakfast, "prepare the guest quarters in the North Wing. The first room on the right down the corridor. My niece is arriving today, and everything must be in perfect order. Change the sheets to silk and pick a pretty bouquet in the garden, but don't touch my gladioli." Will she be staying long, ma'am? Should I clean the carpet?" – Jane asked timidly, eager to learn as much as she could about her guest and to spread this surprise to the entire household. After all, no one in the house had even suspected that the lady had a niece! The lady had never mentioned her! "Yes, the carpet should have been beaten out and cleaned," Lady Cranford replied in an indifferent tone. – She will come this afternoon."

"And the room to be cleaned, and the carpet to be knocked out and cleaned! And all as soon as possible!" – ran through poor Jane's mind. But she only curtsied and said: "As you command, ma'am."

And lo and behold, the person who had made Jane so nervous was here! In Greenhall! And the carpet had not been cleaned! The beautiful silver vase is empty! What on earth possessed her to ask about the carpet? Oh, what would Lady Cranford say to that?

"But the guest was not due until the evening! It's not my fault she turned up after lunch!" – poor Jane soothed herself, and, tucking the dishevelled black strands of her hair back under her white working bonnet, she hurriedly left her plate of hot soup and almost ran from the kitchen, which was in the far wing of the house, into the huge entrance hall, sacrificing her lunch. What to say! Sometimes curiosity drowns out the songs of a hungry belly!

The girl joined her friends gathered at one of the far windows, and stretching her neck, cast a glance at the wide stone courtyard, through which a rather old black carriage, drawn by a pair of tired grey horses, was rolling gently along.