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It's Bible-truth, you know; the head and the feet and the eye and the hand, and all that. Let's just see what we shall come to! People don't turn out what they're meant, who have Irish kitchens and high-style parlors, all alike. There's a great deal in being Holabirdy, or whatever-else-you-are-y!" "If it only weren't for that cellar-kitchen," said Mrs. Holabird.
"Holabirdy?" put in Barbara. "No. Not a bit. Things that you do never do." Rosamond felt herself flush up. Alice Marchbanks had said once, of something that we wore, which was praised as pretty, that it "might be, but it was Holabirdy." Rosamond found it hard to forget that. "I beg your pardon, Rose. It's just as pretty as it can be; and I don't mean to tease you," said Barbara, quickly.
Last night's twilight isn't over. And it's funny we've plans too; we're going to give lessons, differently; we're going to lead off, for once, we Holabirds; and I don't know exactly how the music will chime in. It may make things Holabirdy." Rosamond had true perceptions, and she was conscientious. What she said, therefore, when she was told, was, "O dear! I suppose it is right! But just now!
"But I do mean to be proud of being Holabirdy, just as long as there's a piece of the name left." "I wish we hadn't bought the new carpet now," said mother. "And what shall we do about all those other great rooms? It will take ready money to move. I'm afraid we shall have to cut it off somewhere else for a while. What if it should be the music, Ruth?" That did go to Ruth's heart.
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