'I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs.' She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other occasions-something very simple?'

Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am.' Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. 'What's the matter? What's the matter?' he answered.Д«y a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks: Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth. He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. 'And what do you wish me to put on my back?' She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently: Every one wants to go it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to clerks. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. 'Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering: and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th. The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of M.

She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words: 'There,' said he, 'there is something for you.' She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.Д«ut one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after. When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, 'Ah, the good soup! I don't know anything better than that,' she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail. She thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. She was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains. Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies. She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction. The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. Uncle Tom's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe.

The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett.The Red Badge of Courage - Stephen Crane.The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne.

Myanmar fairy story