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But it was months before Marietta would believe it. "She acted as if her mind were a little touched all that summer. Used to dress up every evening in the clothes he had liked best, with a flower in her hair, and go down to the honeysuckle arbour to wait for him. She'd sit there and wait and wait all alone, until her father'd go down and lead her in.
"I say, let's start up an' go!" cried Mrs. Babcock, in an intense voice. The three women looked at each other. "Abby could keep house for father a few days," said Mrs. Green, as if to some carping judge; "an' it ain't goin' to cost much, an' I know father'd say go." "Well, I guess I can cook up enough victuals to last Adoniram and the boys whilst I'm gone," said Mrs.
A little flush rose to her cheeks. "Well," she temporized, "you ain't goin' to count your chickens before they're hatched. It's a poor way. It never leads to anything but disappointment in the end." "Why, mother," said Herman warmly, "you thought so too. We talked it over only night before last, and you said you guessed father'd put me on to that farm."
And sometimes they'd get talking, low and mysterious like, about "Th' Eureka Stockade;" and if we didn't understand and asked questions, "what was the Eureka Stockade?" or "what did they do it for?" father'd say: "Now, run away, sonny, and don't bother; me and Mr So-and-so want to talk."
I never saw anything like the way you manage the money, and I believe you've got every bill since you were married." "Yes I do love accounts," Mrs. Bell admitted. "And I can keep run of things. I've often thought your Father'd have done better if he'd let me run that end of his business." Diantha gave a fierce little laugh.
You wouldn't get ten dollars a week. Nor anything like it. You haven't any profession, and what is there in Ithaca to do anyway?... Oh, if your father'd only lived!" She broke into a fresh burst of tears. "Hush, please, dear," said Frederick, smoothing back the grey hair. "Go on and tell me what you want. There, see, now, I'm listening." Mrs. Graves used her handkerchief vigorously.
For the other house, the house we most haunted after our own, was that of our cousin Albert, still another of the blest orphans, though this time of our mother's kindred; and if it was my habit, as I have hinted, to attribute to orphans as orphans a circumstantial charm, a setting necessarily more delightful than our father'd and mother'd one, so there spread about this appointed comrade, the perfection of the type, inasmuch as he alone was neither brother'd nor sister'd, an air of possibilities that were none the less vivid for being quite indefinite.
Mollie knew that she was naughty, but truly Arabella was trying. "Perhaps your aunt likes music," said Nina; "Dorothy is going to sing." "I don't know whether she likes singing or not," Arabella replied, "but she doesn't like dancing, I know, for she said she wouldn't ever let me learn to dance." "P'r'aps your father'd let you learn," said Reginald. "He wouldn't unless Aunt Matilda said I could."
"I knew, if we all prayed about it, your father'd let you!" exulted Teresa, the following afternoon, when Marg'ret Hammond was about to run down the wide steps of the Costello house, in the gathering dusk. The Mayor came into the entrance hall, his coat pocket bulging with papers, and his silk hat on the back of his head, to find his wife and daughters bidding the guest good-by.
"Manny's th' man on a throne wishes his father'd brought him up a cooper, what with wages bein' docked be parlymints an' ragin' arnychists r-runnin' wild with dinnymite bombs undher their ar-rms an' carvin'-knives in their pockets. "Onaisy, as Hogan says, is th' head that wears a crown. They'se other heads that're onaisy, too; but ye don't hear iv thim.
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