Betty Leicester's Christmas , livre ebook

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29 pages

English

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A follow-up to the earlier novel for younger readers, Betty Leicester, this charming holiday tale visits our young heroine as she returns to London with mixed feelings. Though she missed her adopted city when staying with relatives in a quaint coastal town in New England, after her return to the U.K., she finds herself pining for America. To ease her mind, she throws herself into enjoying the elegant holiday celebrations she attends.

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Publié par	The Floating Press
Date de parution	01 mars 2017
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781776677559
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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BETTY LEICESTER'S CHRISTMAS
* * *
SARAH ORNE JEWETT

*
Betty Leicester's Christmas First published in 1894 Epub ISBN 978-1-77667-755-9 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77667-756-6 © 2015 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Contents
*
I II III IV V VI VII VIII IX X
*
To M. E. G.
I
*
There was once a story-book girl named Betty Leicester, who lived in asmall square book bound in scarlet and white. I, who know her betterthan any one else does, and who know my way about Tideshead, thestory-book town, as well as she did, and who have not only made many avisit to her Aunt Barbara and Aunt Mary in their charming oldcountry-house, but have even seen the house in London where she spentthe winter: I, who confess to loving Betty a good deal, wish to write alittle more about her in this Christmas story. The truth is, that eversince I wrote the first story I have been seeing girls who reminded meof Betty Leicester of Tideshead. Either they were about the same age orthe same height, or they skipped gayly by me in a little gown like hers,or I saw a pleased look or a puzzled look in their eyes which seemed tobring Betty, my own story-book girl, right before me.
*
Now, if anybody has read the book, this preface will be much moreinteresting than if anybody has not. Yet, if I say to all newacquaintances that Betty was just in the middle of her sixteenth year,and quite in the middle of girlhood; that she hated some things as muchas she could, and liked other things with all her heart, and did notfeel pleased when older people kept saying don't! perhaps these newacquaintances will take the risk of being friends. Certain things hadbecome easy just as Betty was leaving Tideshead in New England, whereshe had been spending the summer with her old aunts, so that, having gotused to all the Tideshead liberties and restrictions, she thought shewas leaving the easiest place in the world; but when she got back toLondon with her father, somehow or other life was very difficult indeed.
She used to wish for London and for her cronies, the Duncans, when shewas first in Tideshead; but when she was in England again she foundthat, being a little nearer to the awful responsibilities of a grownperson, she was not only a new Betty, but London—great, busy, roaring,delightful London—was a new London altogether. To say that she feltlonely, and cried one night because she wished to go back to Tidesheadand be a village person again, and was homesick for her four-posted bedwith the mandarins parading on the curtains, is only to tell the honesttruth.
In Tideshead that summer Betty Leicester learned two things which shecould not understand quite well enough to believe at first, but whichalways seem more and more sensible to one as time goes on. The first isthat you must be careful what you wish for, because if you wish hardenough you are pretty sure to get it; and the second is, that no twopersons can be placed anywhere where one will not be host and the otherguest. One will be in a position to give and to help and to show; theother must be the one who depends and receives.
Now, this subject may not seem any clearer to you at first than it didto Betty; but life suddenly became a great deal more interesting, andshe felt herself a great deal more important to the rest of the worldwhen she got a little light from these rules. For everybody knows thattwo of the hardest things in the world are to know what to do and how tobehave; to know what one's own duty is in the world and how to get onwith other people. What to be and how to behave—these are the questionsthat every girl has to face; and if somebody answers, "Be good and bepolite," it is such a general kind of answer that one throws it away andfeels uncomfortable.
I do not remember that I happened to say anywhere in the story thatthere was a pretty fashion in Tideshead, as summer went on, of callingour friend "Sister Betty." Whether it came from her lamenting that shehad no sister, and being kindly adopted by certain friends, or whetherthere was something in her friendly, affectionate way of treatingpeople, one cannot tell.
II
*
Betty Leicester, in a new winter gown which had just been sent home fromLiberty's, with all desirable qualities of color, and a fine expanse ofsmocking at the yoke, and some sprigs of embroidery for ornament inproper places, was yet an unhappy Betty. In spite of being not onlyfine, but snug and warm as one always feels when cold weather firstcomes and one gets into a winter dress, everything seemed disappointing.The weather was shivery and dark, the street into which she was lookingwas narrow and gloomy, and there was a moment when Betty thoughtwistfully of Tideshead as if there were no December there, and only thehigh, clear September sky that she had left. Somehow, all out-of-doorlife appeared to have come to an end, and she felt as if she were shutinto a dark and wintry prison.

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