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Jarvis stood behind them, her arms extended across their shoulders, as if she would willingly protect them from this anguish if she could. Poor Georgie sobbed at the foot of the bed, a picture of childish woe. The minister's words of peace and comfort, spoken at this moment, were sorely needed, for the prayer had scarcely ended when Mrs.
The worst of it is I shan't be able to do anything to him when he turns up this evening, because he'll pretend he ran away because he was so afraid of me after yesterday." "Are you so terrifying?" said Georgie, peeping up at him from under her shady hat. "Not at all. I am a very easily-led person." Georgie considered this, her head on one side.
"And who would like to go halves in my tankard?" said Daisy with bitter irony. "I want my tankard." Georgie said nothing, but his mind was extremely busy.
"Just got snappy being tied to those golf-clubs," remarked Foljambe. But Georgie, as he put some jam into his saucer, could not help wondering whether the message of love had not done it. He dined alone, for Hermy and Ursy did not appear, and had a great polishing of his knick-knacks afterwards, while waiting for them.
"There's a di-ack-lum plaster on, but it's all raw under," Georgie answered, complying. "Dothent it hurt?" her grey eyes were full of pity and interest. "Awf'ly. Perhaps it will give me lockjaw." "It lookth very horrid. I'm tho thorry!" She put a forefinger to his hand, and held her head sidewise for a better view. Here the nurse turned, and shook him severely.
One really does get tired of this mental stagnation." "I wish, Mr. He won't go on the hill, and he's no use in the drawing-room. I am certain at this minute he would rather be walking down St. James Street to his club." "I don't wonder at it!" cried Miss Georgie Lestrange, coming gallantly to the apathetic young man's rescue. "Look how he's situated.
"Come on up, and we'll motor to Boston on Sunday afternoon and we'll go to Trinity; I want somebody to be good with me, Georgie, and there are so many of the other kind. "Ever wistfully, "Madge." George knew that he ought to go, but he was not ready yet to run away. He was having the time of his life, and as for Becky, he would teach her how to play the game.
"And what shall I talk about?" said she. "About Aunt Rhody, or Mr. Gabriel, or I'll tell you the queerest thing, Georgie! Going to now?" "Do be quiet, Faith, and not keep your head flirting about so!" for she'd started up to speak. Then she composed herself once more. "What was I saying? Oh, about that. Yes, Georgie, the queerest thing!
Wade gone to?" asked Patsy; not seeming to find it strange that Miss Stella should be at Waterfall Cottage. "Could Georgie be very wise and silent?" asked Lady O'Gara. Georgie flushed under her look and sent her a worshipping glance. "Georgie would be silent enough if it was likely his father would find us," said Susan. "Not but what he's quiet by nature.
"Say, boy," he asked, slowly. "Who am I?" Georgie was surprised. "Why, Santa Claus," he replied. "You are Santa Claus, ain't you?" "Eh? San . . . Oh, yes, yes! I'm Santa Claus, that's who I be." He seemed relieved, but still anxious. After fidgeting a moment he added, "Well, I cal'late I'll have to be goin' now." Georgie turned pale. "But but where are the presents?" he wailed.
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