Louisa May Alcott - Хорошие жёны / Good wives. Уровень 3

I shall never get to London if I don’t hurry. The trip was riding through a long picture gallery, full of lovely landscapes. The farmhouses were my delight, with thatched roofs, ivy up to the eaves, latticed windows, and stout women with rosy children at the doors. The grass is so green, sky so blue, grain so yellow, woods so dark!

Of course it rained when we got to London, and there was nothing to be seen but fog and umbrellas. We rested, unpacked, and shopped a little between the showers. Aunt Mary got me some new things. A white hat and blue feather, a muslin dress, and the loveliest mantle you ever saw. Shopping in Regent Street is perfectly splendid. Things are very cheap, nice ribbons only sixpence a yard. I shall get my gloves in Paris. Doesn’t that sound elegant and rich?

Flo and I, for the fun of it, ordered a hansom cab, while Aunt and Uncle were out, and went for a drive. We learned afterward that it wasn’t appropriate for young ladies to ride in them alone. It was so droll! We were shut in by the wooden apron, the man drove so fast that Flo was frightened, and told me to stop him. But he didn’t hear me. We were quite helpless. At last, in my despair, I saw a little door in the roof, and opened it. A red eye appeared, and a beery voice said,

“Now, then, mum?”

I gave my order soberly, and, with an “Aye, aye, mum,” the man made his horse walk, as if going to a funeral. I poked again and said, “A little faster,” then off he went very fast, as before. We resigned ourselves to our fate.

Today was fair, and we went to Hyde Park. The Duke of Devonshire lives near. And the Duke of Wellington’s house is not far off. Such sights as I saw, my dear! There were fat dowagers in their red and yellow coaches, with gorgeous servants in silk stockings and velvet coats, powdered coachmen in front. Smart maids, with the rosiest children I ever saw, handsome girls, looking half asleep, dandies in queer English hats and lavender kids, and tall soldiers, in short red jackets and muffin caps.

The horses are splendid, and the men, especially the grooms, ride well. But the women are stiff, and bounce. I wanted to show them an American gallop!

Don’t expect me to describe Westminster Abbey, that’s impossible. I’ll only say it is sublime! This evening we are going to the theatre.

It’s very late, but I want to tell you what happened last evening. Who do you think came in, as we were at tea? Laurie’s English friends, Fred and Frank Vaughn! I was very surprised. Both are tall fellows with whiskers, Fred handsome in the English style, and Frank much better, for he only limps slightly, and uses no crutches. They heard from Laurie where we were, and came to ask us to their house. But Uncle doesn’t want to go, so we shall see them as soon as we can. They went to the theater with us, and we had such a good time, for Frank devoted himself to Flo, and Fred and I talked over past, present, and future fun. Tell Beth Frank asked for her, and was sorry to hear of her ill health. Fred laughed when I spoke of Jo, and sent his ‘respectful compliments to the big hat’. Neither of them forgot Camp Laurence, or the fun we had there.

Aunt is tapping on the wall for the third time, so I must stop. I really feel like a London lady, writing here so late, with my room full of pretty things. My head is full of parks, theaters, new gowns, and gallant creatures who say “Ah!” and twirl their blond mustaches.

Your loving Amy

Paris

Dear girls,

In my last letter I told you about our London visit, how kind the Vaughns were, and what pleasant parties they made for us. I enjoyed the trips to Hampton Court and the Kensington Museum more than anything else. At Hampton I saw Raphael’s works, and at the Museum, rooms full of pictures by Turner, Lawrence, Reynolds, Hogarth, and the other great people. The day in Richmond Park was charming. We had an English picnic. The Vaughns hope to meet us in Rome next winter. I shall be dreadfully disappointed if they don’t. Grace and I are great friends, and the boys very nice fellows, especially Fred.

Well, he said that he was going to Switzerland. Aunt looked sober at first, but he was so cool about it she couldn’t say a word. He speaks French like a Frenchman, and I don’t know what we will do without him. Uncle doesn’t know ten words, and insists on talking English very loud. Aunt’s pronunciation is old-fashioned. Flo and I find we don’t know French at all, and are very grateful to have Fred to do the ‘parley vooing’ [21] to do the ‘parley vooing’ – «парлевукать» ( зд .: говорить по-французски) , as Uncle calls it.

We have such delightful times! Sightseeing from morning till night, stopping for nice lunches in the cafeterias. Rainy days I spend in the Louvre.

The Palais Royale is a heavenly place, so full of bijouterie and lovely things that I’m nearly distracted because I can’t buy them. Fred wanted to buy me some, but of course I didn’t allow it. Then the Bois and Champs Elysees are wonderful. I’ve seen the imperial family several times, the emperor an ugly, hard-looking man, the empress pale and pretty, but dressed in bad taste, I thought. Purple dress, green hat, and yellow gloves.

We often walk in the Tuileries Gardens, for they are lovely, though the antique Luxembourg Gardens suit me better. Pere la Chaise cemetery is very curious. Many of the tombs are like small rooms. One sees a table, with images or pictures of the dead, and chairs for the mourners to sit in when they come to lament. That is so Frenchy [22] That is so Frenchy. – Это так по-французски. .

Our rooms are on the Rue de Rivoli. Sitting on the balcony, we look up and down the long, brilliant street. It is so pleasant that we spend our evenings talking there when too tired. Fred is very entertaining, and is altogether the most agreeable young man I ever knew-except Laurie, whose manners are more charming. I wish Fred was dark, for I don’t like light men, however, the Vaughns are very rich and come of an excellent family, so I won’t find fault with their yellow hair.

Next week we are going to Germany and Switzerland. I try to ‘remember correctly and describe clearly all that I see and admire’, as Father advised. It is good practice for me.

Adieu, I embrace you tenderly.

Votre Amie [23] Votre Amie – Ваша Эмми ( франц .) .

Heidelberg

My dear Mamma,

I’ll try to tell you what happened. Some of it is very important, as you will see. The sail up the Rhine was perfect. I just sat and enjoyed it with all my might. At Coblentz we had a lovely time, for some students from Bonn, with whom Fred got acquainted on the boat, gave us a serenade. It was a moonlight night. About one o’clock Flo and I were waked by the most delicious music under our windows. We got up, and hid behind the curtains, but sly peeps showed us Fred and the students singing away down below. It was the most romantic thing I ever saw-the river, the bridge of boats, the great fortress opposite, moonlight everywhere, and music!

Then we threw down some flowers, and saw them scramble for them, kiss their hands to the invisible ladies, and go away, to smoke and drink beer, I suppose. Next morning Fred showed me one of the crumpled flowers in his vest pocket, and looked very sentimental. I laughed at him, and said I didn’t throw it, but Flo. It seemed to disgust him, for he tossed it out of the window. I’m afraid I’m going to have trouble with that boy.

In Baden-Baden Fred lost a lot of money, and I scolded him. He needs someone to look after him when Frank is not with him. Kate hopes he’ll marry soon, and I quite agree with her that it will be well for him.