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My freedom suit is ordered, and you may see me playing tag with Rose and the boys before long," answered Mrs. Jessie, nodding back at him. Meantime Aunt Plenty was examining Rose's costume, for the hat and sack were off, and the girl was eagerly explaining the new under-garments. "See, auntie, all nice scarlet flannel, and a gay little petticoat, and long stockings, oh, so warm!
He caught stray words: Eleanor's efforts to talk as Rose talked Rose's dog was "perfectly sweet," but "simply awful"; then a dog story; "wasn't that killing?" And Eleanor: she once had a cat "perfectly frightfully cunning!" said Eleanor, stumbling among the adverbs of adolescence. At Rose's story the young men roared, but Eleanor's cat awoke no interest.
So far everything in these unfrequented Campden Hill roads was clean, crisp, enlivening, and the sparkle in Rose's mood answered to that of nature. Breakfast had just been cleared away. Agnes was upstairs with Mrs. Leyburn. Catherine, who was staying in the house for a day or two, was in a chair by the fire, reading some letters forwarded to her from Bedford Square.
But no day had been set for the tea, Norma reflected gloomily. Now, she supposed, the stir of Leslie's engagement would put all that out of Christopher's head. Wolf was not particularly sympathetic with her, she mused, disconsolately. Wolf had been acting in an unprecedented manner of late. Rose's engagement seemed to have completely turned his head.
Except for the vacuum where the core and heart of it all ought to have been, Rose's life in New York during the year that put her on the high road to success as a designer of costumes for the theater, was a good life, broadening, stimulating, seasoning.
She doesn't want me." Tom again paused a moment before he spoke. Each time Rose mentioned Rhoda in that slighting tone it roused his anger against her. But he told himself that Rose did not know Rhoda yet, and he must wait till they had seen something of each other before he could expect Rose's sympathy. He spoke very calmly and reasonably after the pause.
Of the lonely waiting, of the noises that had frightened them. "Oh, Mr. Kirtland! That armor is standing just as it did when it was daylight here, but truly we heard his sword rattle against his shield, and once " Rose's voice faltered. "Once," said Polly, taking up the story, "we thought he walked across the floor!"
And at the same time, yonder in Abbe Rose's peaceful dining-room, he fancied he could again see the gentle face of Madame Mathis, so sad and so resigned, living on solely by the force of the last trembling hope which she had unhappily set in her son.
"Dear me! what could I do over there in the mud with the queer green frogs?" laughed Kitty, as this song was croaked at her. "No, no, come and fly Through the sunny sky, Or honey sip From the rose's lip, Or dance in the air, Like spirits fair. Come away, come away; 'Tis our holiday."
Phebe stopped rattling her beans from one pan to another, and her eyes were full of pity as they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.
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