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'I know what I'm about, replied Mrs. Brunton, with a toss of her married head. Bessy resumed her inquiry. 'Is there any more to be had wheere that come fra', Sylvia? 'I don't know, replied Sylvia. 'It come fra' Foster's, and yo' can ask. 'What might it cost? said Betsy, fingering an end of it to test its quality. 'I can't tell, said Sylvia, 'it were a present.
Aunt Bridget was talking in doleful tones to Lady Margaret about my mother, saying she had promised her on her death-bed to take care of her child and had been as good as her word, always putting me before her own daughter, although her ladyship would admit that Betsy was a handsome girl, and, now that his lordship was married, there were few in the island that were fit for her. "Why no, Mrs.
The advertisement was a last resort. Black Riley came from behind the stove and approached Fuzzy in his one-sided parabolic way. The Christmas mummer, flushed with success, had tucked Betsy under his arm, and was about to depart to the filling of impromptu dates elsewhere. "Say, 'Bo," said Black Riley to him, "where did you cop out dat doll?"
A day or two later Betsy wrote to her the happy news that the sentence of expulsion was withdrawn, and peace reigned once more in the ivy-covered lodge. By that time Miss Rockett had all but recovered her self-respect, and was so busy in her secretaryship that she could only scribble a line of congratulation.
One afternoon toward the close of the revival, Betsy and John Calvin Gilcrest and Henry and Susan Rogers took their lunch-baskets to a shady grove near the big spring, with the intention of spending the afternoon in the woods. "I'm completely worn out," declared Susan, throwing herself down upon a grassy knoll and tossing her bonnet aside. "I've had enough excitement for one while."
To tell the truth, it was rather a relief to be rid of Mrs. Ladybug's society for so long a time. And Betsy hoped that Mrs. Ladybug's errand to the farmhouse would keep that busybody engaged for the rest of the day. Now, after she left the farmhouse Mrs. Ladybug set out to find Betsy Butterfly again.
Helen could not tell her he would be ashamed, but Aunt Betsy knew she meant it, and with a fresh gush of tears she gave the project up entirely, telling Helen all she did not already know of her trip to New York, her visit to the opera, her staying with the Tubbses and her meeting with Mark, the best young chap she ever saw, not even excepting Morris.
Ann wandered about the kitchen in a dazed state, dropping tears everywhere, and now and then moaning, "O Betsy, how'll I ever get up the funeral dinner?" while Alfred, after emptying the square bottle of brandy, threw himself upon the settle and went to sleep. Mr.
You’d have thought that would have been enough for one day, wouldn’t you? Well, that afternoon she turned the hose on Mr. Flanagan—that’s the policeman on the beat.” “What did he say?” Maida asked in alarm. She had a vague imaginary picture of Betsy being dragged to the station-house. “Roared! But then Mr. Flanagan thinks Betsy’s all right.
'That's so like a man. It's not merely the cooking, it is that she knows all the ways of the house. Besides, she tells me something about your friend Miss Hale. 'Miss Hale is no friend of mine. Mr. Hale is my friend. 'I am glad to hear you say so, for if she had been your friend, what Betsy says would have annoyed you.
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