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"Isn't it delightful to think that we'll all be going home in a fortnight?" "Yes, very for those that have homes to go to," said Ruth drearily. Carol felt a quick pang of pity and self-reproach. "Haven't you?" she asked. Ruth shook her head. In spite of herself, the kindness of Carol's tone brought the tears to her eyes.
He glanced through the window and looked at Carol, buttoning Julia's gaiters for the fifth time that morning. "It is a pretty nice world to most of us," said the nurse. "We each have a world of our own, I guess. Mine is Carol and Julia now. I have no grouch at life, and I register no complaint against circumstances, but I should be glad to live in my little world a long, long time."
"Carol! That sounds malicious, and malice isn't tolerated here for a minute. Now, oh, Fairy, did you remember to dust the back of the dresser in our bedroom?" "Mercy! What in the world do you want the back of the dresser dusted for? Do you expect the Ladies to look right through it?" "No, but some one might drop something behind it, and it would have to be pulled out and they would all see it.
And Carol was so excited getting ready for their first outing in the years of David's illness, that she forgot his medicine three times in succession, and David maliciously refused to remind her. They all talked at once, and agreed that it was very silly and dangerous and unwise, but insisted it was the most alluring, appealing madness in the world.
"I just brushed my lips with it, and gave it back to him," moaned Fern. She sat up, glared at Carol. "Did you ever take a drink?" "I have. A few. I'd love to have one right now! This contact with righteousness has about done me up!" Fern could laugh then.
"We have tried to explain these things to the other freshmen so Miss Allen could not lead them into into error. Oh, that's Christian Science, isn't it? Well, Minnie Carlson is a Christian Scientist and she talks so much about falling into error that honestly " "We can't tell error from truth any more," interjected Carol neatly.
Riggs offered to share her hymn-book with him, he shook his head, and all the while we was singing he just stood there like a bump on a log and never opened his mouth. Everybody says he's got an idea that he's got so much better manners and all than what the rest of us have, but if that's what he calls good manners, I want to know!" Carol again studied the carving-knife.
Nothing is to be heard save the carol of a bird, the rippling of a clear stream flowing swiftly through the valley, and at intervals the distinct notes of the little bells and cymbals upon the clocks which his Majesty brought with him. Even their ticking is often audible. At certain hours the ringing of the monastery bells blends solemnly and softly with the silence.
As she climbed along the banks of the dark river Carol listened to its fables about the wide land of yellow waters and bleached buffalo bones to the West; the Southern levees and singing darkies and palm trees toward which it was forever mysteriously gliding; and she heard again the startled bells and thick puffing of high-stacked river steamers wrecked on sand-reefs sixty years ago.
And they do take such an interest in refinement and culture. So in fact, so very unique." Carol was disappointed by nothing very tangible. She said politely, "I'll think them all over. I must have a while to look around first." Miss Sherwin darted to her, smoothed her hair, peered at her. "Oh, my dear, don't you suppose I know? These first tender days of marriage they're sacred to me.
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