United States or Kuwait ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"Priscy," said Nancy, gently, as she fastened a coral necklace, exactly like her own, round Priscilla's neck, which was very far from being like her own, "I'm sure I'm willing to give way as far as is right, but who shouldn't dress alike if it isn't sisters? Would you have us go about looking as if we were no kin to one another us that have got no mother and not another sister in the world?
'I should say, when they feel warmly enough to think little of their differences. 'Fire smoothes the creases, yes; and fire is what they're both wanting in. Though Priscy has Concert-pathos in her voice: couldn't act a bit! And Pempton's 'cello tones now and then have gone through me simply from his fiddle-bow, I believe.
'The day was pleasant to all, except perhaps poor mademoiselle, she said. 'Peridon should have come? 'Present or absent, his chances are not brilliant, I fear. 'And Pempton and Priscy! 'They are growing cooler! 'With their grotesque objections to one another's habits at table! 'Can we ever hope to get them over it? 'When Priscy drinks Port and Pempton munches beef, Colney says.
'The day was pleasant to all, except perhaps poor mademoiselle, she said. 'Peridon should have come? 'Present or absent, his chances are not brilliant, I fear. 'And Pempton and Priscy! 'They are growing cooler! 'With their grotesque objections to one another's habits at table! 'Can we ever hope to get them over it? 'When Priscy drinks Port and Pempton munches beef, Colney says.
Anybody 'ud say you wanted to make a mawkin of me." "No, Priscy, don't say so. I begged and prayed of you not to let us have this silk if you'd like another better. I was willing to have your choice, you know I was," said Nancy, in anxious self-vindication. "Nonsense, child! you know you'd set your heart on this; and reason good, for you're the colour o' cream.
'I should say, when they feel warmly enough to think little of their differences. 'Fire smoothes the creases, yes; and fire is what they're both wanting in. Though Priscy has Concert-pathos in her voice: couldn't act a bit! And Pempton's 'cello tones now and then have gone through me simply from his fiddle-bow, I believe.
I like to see the men mastered!" "Don't talk so, Priscy," said Nancy, blushing. "You know I don't mean ever to be married." "Oh, you never mean a fiddlestick's end!" said Priscilla, as she arranged her discarded dress, and closed her bandbox.
Word Of The Day