United States or Sudan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It tells how he saved the castaways of Earthquake Island, and among them was Mr. Nestor, the father of Mary, a girl whom Tom thought but there, I'm not going to be mean, and tell on a good fellow. You can guess what I'm hinting at, I think. It was when Tom went to get Mary Nestor a diamond ring that he fell in with Mr.
Her mother had been an amiable woman, of the poetical temperament nevertheless, too enthusiastic, imaginative, impulsive, for the repose of a sober scholar; an admirable woman, still, as you see, a woman, a fire-work. The girl resembled her. Why should she wish to run away from Patterne Hall for a single hour? Simply because she was of the sex born mutable and explosive.
"Because my publisher insisted on substituting that title for the one I had chosen myself. I'll admit that it doesn't fit the story, my dear Countess, but what is an author to do when his publisher announces that he has a beautiful head of a girl he wants to put on the cover and that the title must fit the cover, so to speak?" "But I don't consider it a beautiful head, Mr. Smart.
At first no one responded, and then a little girl said, "Won't you sing us another song, please. You sing so delightfully." Marjorie looked in amazement at the child who talked in such grownup fashion. But the entertaining lady did not seem to think it strange, and she replied, "Yes, I will sing for you with pleasure."
Tims, temporarily oblivious of all awkward circumstances, continued, still more sentimentally: "Then I was there, as I've told you, when Ian's pop came to poor old M. Poor old girl! She was awfully spifligatingly happy, and I feel just the same now myself."
Clara, observing that she looked more than usually ill when they parted in the evening, could not refrain from going into her cell. She found her on her bed, gasping for breath. "Thank you for coming," whispered the poor girl; "it would have been hard to die all alone. My poor father! my poor father!" she murmured; "would that I could have been with him!" She could utter no more.
She and the elder girl were all that were left to him of love and comfort, and the elder sister had been taken from him while she was a little child. He would not have known her had he met her unawares; nor had he ever felt for her such a pathetic love as for this guiltless death-angel, this baby whose coming had ruined his life, whose love was nevertheless the only drop of sweetness in his cup.
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I mean yes, they're sending me away from Rohar, from you. Sending me to the other side of India." The blood slowly left her face as she stared uncomprehendingly at him. "Sending you away? Why?" she asked. "Because because we're friends, little girl." "Because we're friends," she echoed. "What do you mean? But you mustn't go." "I must. I can't help it. I've got to go."
Let some young and undeniably pretty girl go into the business, and she’d soon get a run of exclusive customers who would stand any price and pay without grumbling.
"Exactly," he thought, "as if she were being watched, or as if she were naked and heard some one coming." On the other hand, when she came several times to see Mrs. Harsanyi and the two babies, she was like a little girl, jolly and gay and eager to play with the children, who loved her.
Word Of The Day