United States or British Virgin Islands ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She went to the dressing-table for hairpins to fasten it, holding up her long nightdress above her white feet with one hand that she might not trip, and, standing before the mirror, blushed at the beauty of her own reflection. When she had put her hair out of the way, she glanced at her bed somewhat longingly, then at her watch.
Here the cavalier took a more strict view of his person, and exclaimed in wonder, "What the devil have you been fighting with, Markham, that has bedizened you after this sorry fashion?" "Fighting!" exclaimed Everard. "Yes," replied his trusty attendant. "I say fighting. Look at yourself in the mirror." He did, and saw he was covered with dust and blood.
But there was no reflection of him in the mirror! The whole room behind me was displayed, but there was no sign of a man in it, except myself. This was startling, and coming on the top of so many strange things, was beginning to increase that vague feeling of uneasiness which I always have when the Count is near.
He was much more remarkable than they were, but he was not happy. People never liked him; he doubted sometimes whether even Helen liked him. To be simple, to be able to say simply what one felt, without the terrific self-consciousness which possessed him, and showed him his own face and words perpetually in a mirror, that would be worth almost any other gift, for it made one happy.
She still frowned as she looked about her. The room contained a small bed, neatly made, two straight-backed chairs, a washstand, a bureau without any mirror and a small table. There were no drapery curtains at the dormer windows, no pictures on the wall. All day the sun had been pouring down upon the roof, and the little room was like an oven for heat.
"It's bad enough to be called an oyster, without having old sponge fastened to one," said Sally Moore, coming away from the mirror, thereby occasioning another rush for that useful dressing-room appointment. "Well, she is both of those very things," declared Alexia, "nevertheless we must applaud her dreadfully when she's finished singing. That's what we promised each other, Frances.
"See, oh, pray see," exclaimed Bertalda, in an angry yet uneasy tone, "how the poor beautiful water is curling and writhing at being shut out from the bright sunshine and from the cheerful sight of the human face, for whose mirror it was created!"
Isn't Marie's face grand?" said Clarence one night in a concert. Beth only smiled. That night she sat in the rocker opposite her mirror and looked at her own reflection. "What a grave, grey-eyed face it is!" she thought. She loved music and beautiful things, and yet she wondered why her eyes never sparkled and glowed like Marie's. She wished they had more expression.
Then she began to "tidy" the room, putting a great many things away and bringing out a great many more, a process that was necessarily slow, owing to her falling into attitudes of minute inspection of certain articles of dress, with intervals of trying them on, and observing their effect in her mirror.
Don't cry any more." The good-natured tone of his voice quieted the child, as he intended it should. He went away into the back kitchen to wash himself. As he was bending his head over the sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there came from outside the dissonant voices of boys, pouring out the dregs of carol-singing. "While Shep-ep-ep-ep-herds watched "
Word Of The Day