Читать книгу Sydney Lisle, the Heiress of St. Quentin онлайн

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She felt as yet too much a visitor to open it and try its tone, as she would have liked to do, and the next moment had forgotten the desire, and had flung herself upon her knees beside the book-case, green and gold to match her room, and full of story-books!

She took out two or three at random, and “dipped” luxuriously, half-kneeling, half-sitting, crumpled anyhow upon the floor. A whole book-case full of new books to be read! She was a lucky girl. A picture flashed back vividly into her mind of the “children’s book-case” at home, where every book had been read and re-read times out of number, and was like an old friend. Oh, if she could only transport all these lovely things into the shabby school-room at home! How Mildred would love the rose-and-gold bedroom—dear Millie, who cared for pretty things so much, and hardly ever had any!

And oh, what raptures Dolly would have gone into over that exquisite little piano!—Dolly, who had been known to cry, yes, really cry, when trying ineffectually to wile some music out of the ancient yellow keys of theirs at home. And how Madge and Fred and Prissie would have loved some—just half-a-dozen—just one, of this profusion of new books before her!