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In the middle of it lay a thing like a rather tall slim watering-pot, minus the handle. The crowd, standing on tiptoe and peeping over the shoulders of their guardians, shook their fists at this harmless-looking article and apostrophised it with a wonderful wealth of passionate invectives. "What in the world's the matter?" cried Miss Bussey, who was nervous in a crowd.
I was only joking. You're a model lover." "Thank you, thank you. I'll go to her at once," and he sped towards the window, opened it and walked up to Mary. Miss Bussey followed him and arrived just in time to see the lovers locked in one another's arms, their faces expressing all appropriate rapture. "There's nothing much wrong," said Miss Bussey; wherein Miss Bussey herself was much wrong.
"She'll have to stay in all to-day and perhaps tomorrow. Isn't it hard upon her? Paris amuses her so much." John expressed his sympathy. "Now if it had been you or I," he ended, "we shouldn't have minded. Paris doesn't amuse us just now." "Oh, but, John, we must be ready to start at any moment." "You can't start without Miss Bussey," "I think that in a wagon-lit " began Mary.
Oh, and Auntie, I want to go with him to Cannes." This last suggestion, which naturally did not appear to any well-regulated mind to harmonize with what had gone before, restored voice to Miss Bussey. "What's the matter with you? Are you mad?" she demanded. John sat down beside her. His friends anticipated a distinguished Parliamentary career for John; he could make anything sound reasonable.
A hostess should not, however, make the mistake of thinking that a large number of "acceptances" implies that anybody really wishes to attend her party. The following is a standard form of acceptance: Dr. Tanner accepts with pleasure the kind invitation of Mrs. Frederick Cummings Bussey for Thursday evening, December twelfth, at half after eight. This note need not be signed.
During the Revolutionary War, Weld's Hill was selected by Washington as a rallying point for the patriot army to fall back upon in case of disaster, as it protected the road to Dedham, the depot of army supplies. Mr. Bussey, after a few years, erected the fine mansion, still standing, and resided here until his death, in 1842. The late Mr.
You're going?" asked Miss Bussey. "Yes: my wife and I cross to England to-morrow." "I shall go the next day," announced the General, "if Dora is ready." John threw a glance toward Dora, but she was busy drinking her coffee. "Well," said Deane, "I hope we may soon meet again, under equally delightful circumstances, in London. At any rate," he added with a laugh, "there we shall be safe from "
"Did we have good eatins? Yes ma'm, old Marster fed me so good, fer I was his pet. He never 'lowed no one to pester me neither. Now dis Marster was Bob Allen who had tuk me for a whiskey debt, too. Marse Bussey couldn't pay, an' so Marse Allen tuk me, a little boy, out'n de yard whar I was playin' marbles. De law 'lowed de fust thing de man saw, he could take.
"I was born in Russell County, Alabamy, an' can tell you 'bout my own mammy an' pappy an' sisters an' brudders. "Mammy's name was Darkis an' her Marster was John Bussey, a reg'lar old drunkard, an' my pappy's name was John Robertson an' b'longed to Dr. Robertson, a big farmer on Tombigbee river, five miles east of Columbus. De doctor hisself lived in Columbus.
Miss Bussey, professing to find bed the best place in the world, was in the habit of taking her breakfast there. The lovers were alone, and, the meal ended, they passed together into the conservatory. Mary sat down and John leant against the glass door opposite her. "Well?" said she, smiling at him.
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