The Adventure of My Aunt(by Washing

The Adventure of My Aunt
(by Washington Irving)
My aunt was a big woman, very tall, with a strong mind and will. She was what you may call a very manly woman. My uncle was a thin, small man, very weak, with no will at all. He was no match for my aunt. From the day of their marriage he began to grow smaller and weaker. His wife's powerful mind was too much for him; it undermined his health, and very soon he fell ill.
My aunt took all possible care of him: half the doctors in town visited him and prescribed medicine for him enough to cure a whole hospital. She made him take all the medicines prescribed by the doctors, but all was in vain. My uncle grew worse and worse and one day she found him dead.
My aunt was very much upset by the death of her poor dear husband. Perhaps now she was sorry that she had made him take so much medicine and felt, perhaps, that he was the victim of her kindness. Anyhow, she did all that a widow could do to honour his memory. She spent very much money on her mourning dress, she wore a miniature of him about her neck as large as a small clock; and she had a full-length portrait of him always hanging in her bedroom. All the world praised her conduct. 'A woman who did so much to honour the memory of one husband, deserves soon to get another,' said my aunt's friends.
Some time passed, and my aunt decided to move to Derbyshire where she had a big country house. The house stood in a lonely, wild part of the country among the grey Derbyshire hills.
The servants, most of whom came with my aunt from town, did not like the sad-looking old place. They were afraid to walk alone about its half-empty black-looking rooms. My aunt herself seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of her house. Before she went to bed, therefore, she herself examined the doors and the windows and locked them with her own hands. Then she carried the keys from the house, together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room. She always saw to all things herself.
One evening, after she had sent away her maid, she sat by her toilet-table, arranging her hair. For, in spite of her sorrow for my uncle, she still cared very much about her appearance. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass first on one side, then on the other. As she looked, she thought of her old friend, a rich gentleman of the neighborhood, who had visited her that day, and whom she had known since her girlhood.
All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She looked round quickly, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the painted portrait of her poor dear husband on the wall behind her. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory as she always did whenever she spoke of him in company, and went on arranging her hair. Her sigh was re-echoed. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen.

Результаты (русский) 1:

Приключения моей тети(Вашингтон Ирвинг)Моя тетя была большая женщина, очень высокий, с сильным умом и будет. Она была, что вы можете назвать очень мужественный женщина. Мой дядя был тонкий, маленький человек, очень слабый, с не будет вообще. Он был не соответствует моей тети. Со дня их брака, он начал расти меньше и слабее. Его жена мощный ум был слишком много для него; Это подорвало его здоровье, и очень скоро он заболел.Моя тетя приняла все возможные Уход за ним: половина врачей в городе посетил его и предписанные лекарства для него достаточно, чтобы вылечить всю больницу. Она сделала его принять все лекарства, предписанные врачами, но все было напрасно. Мой дядя вырос все хуже и хуже и один день, когда она нашла его мертвым.Моя тетя была очень расстроен смертью ее плохой дорогой муж. Возможно, теперь она было жаль, что она сделала его взять столько медицины и чувствовал, возможно, что он стал жертвой ее доброты. Во всяком случае она сделала все, что вдова может сделать, чтобы почтить его память. Она потратила очень много денег на ее платье траура, она носила миниатюра ему о ее шею, как большой, как маленькие часы; и она полнометражного портрет его всегда висит в своей спальне. Весь мир оценил ее поведение. «Женщина, которая сделал так много, чтобы почтить память одного мужа, заслуживает скоро получить другой,» сказал, моя тетя друзей.Прошло некоторое время, и моя тетя решила переехать в Дербишир, где она имела большой загородный дом. Дом стоял одинокий, дикая часть страны среди серых Дербишир холмов.The servants, most of whom came with my aunt from town, did not like the sad-looking old place. They were afraid to walk alone about its half-empty black-looking rooms. My aunt herself seemed to be struck with the lonely appearance of her house. Before she went to bed, therefore, she herself examined the doors and the windows and locked them with her own hands. Then she carried the keys from the house, together with a little box of money and jewels, to her own room. She always saw to all things herself.One evening, after she had sent away her maid, she sat by her toilet-table, arranging her hair. For, in spite of her sorrow for my uncle, she still cared very much about her appearance. She sat for a little while looking at her face in the glass first on one side, then on the other. As she looked, she thought of her old friend, a rich gentleman of the neighborhood, who had visited her that day, and whom she had known since her girlhood.All of a sudden she thought she heard something move behind her. She looked round quickly, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing but the painted portrait of her poor dear husband on the wall behind her. She gave a heavy sigh to his memory as she always did whenever she spoke of him in company, and went on arranging her hair. Her sigh was re-echoed. She looked round again, but no one was to be seen.