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Michael read them all, carefully cut out and preserved a few pleasant things that were written about her, looked at the pictures, and turned from the pomp and pride of her triumph to the little snapshot of herself on horseback in the Park with her groom, which she had sent to him when she was a little girl.
The door opened and in bounded Amy, the sweet youngest daughter of the house, a lovely girl of sixteen, fresh and glowing, and bright as a rosebud.
There was no doubting that the girl believed what she said, and the Senator's affairs were in a sufficiently precarious state to bid him pause. "Nonsense!" He made his own tone as unconcerned as he could, but there was a look of haunting dread in his eyes.
Quite a little girl she was, not much older than you, Mademoiselle Jeanne, but not like you, for she had light hair and soft blue eyes, and a fair face like Monsieur Chéri. She was a little English girl.
It was not easy to know what attitude to take toward such a complete stranger, and with no knowledge of what sort of a girl she was writing to. But she at last sent off this: MY DEAR AZALEA: I am the wife of your cousin, William Farnsworth. Though you do not remember him, your father will tell you about him.
They are coloured exactly like the eyes of the girl I am going to marry." Elnora handed him several others to add to those he held. "She must have wonderful eyes," she commented. "No other blue eyes are quite so beautiful," he said. "In fact, she is altogether lovely." "Is it customary for a man to think the girl he is going to marry lovely? I wonder if I should find her so."
Now who was to answer her with a face as innocent as the Blessed Virgin's must have been when she was a girl in short frocks? They all looked at each other, but luckily the forester's wife, Mrs.
But she merely stood and stared without winking. "Hullo, little girl!" Bennington greeted her uneasily. The creature only stared the harder. "My doll's name is Garnet M-a-ay," she observed suddenly, with a long-drawn nasal accent. After this interesting bit of information another silence fell. "What is your name, little girl?" Bennington asked desperately at last.
On the whole, indeed, Marie liked the capitaine, and felt that he was her friend; and in her country such marriages were not uncommon. The capitaine was perhaps a little beyond the age at which a man might usually be thought justified in demanding the services of a young girl as his nurse and wife, but then Marie of herself had so little to give except her youth, and beauty, and goodness.
A light burned in McGregor's blue eyes. As he stood in the classroom before the startled class his head, big and red, had something of nobility about it like the head of a fine beast. His voice rumbled out of his throat and the girl looked at him, her mouth standing open. "We go from room to room hearing talk," began McGregor.