Читать книгу Cherry & Violet: A Tale of the Great Plague онлайн

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Of my Friend and Schoolfellow, Violet Armytage, there could not be two Opinions. She was excessively pretty, and knew it too well: which was partly the Fault of her Father, who was always calling her his “sweet Wi-let;” and yet, even if he had not, I think she would have found it out, for all that. My Father called me his rosy Cherry, but I knew it for his Manner of Speaking. But Violet always believed Everything that was said in her Praise. She was fond of me by Fits and Starts; and when the affectionate Fit was on, she would bring her Work and sit with me in the Arbour at the Top of our House, by the Hour together. Sometimes my Father and Mother would join us there in the long Summer Evenings, and we would sup in the open Air; no one objecting to it but Dolly, who had to carry the Things up so many Pair of Stairs.

At other Times, when my Father and Mother were otherwise engaged, Mark would come up to us; and sit upon the Roller or Watering-pot, and say ever so many funny Things to us both; which we thought very pleasant. Sometimes Violet would let her Ball of Thread roll through the Rails and drop down into the Street, and send him to fetch it; and when he had brought it she would do the same Thing again; which he said was too bad, but I don’t think he minded it. I never played him such Tricks myself; for, what was singular, though we lived in the same House together, I was shyer of him than she was.