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Dieu me damne! but it reminds me of the old story of the two sisters meeting at a gallant's house. 'Oh, Sister, how came you here? said one, in virtuous amazement. 'Ciel! ma soeur! cries the other; 'what brought you?"* * The reader will remember a better version of this anecdote in one of the most popular of the English comedies.
Doret uttered a feeble cry and rose to his feet. "Ma soeur!" he exclaimed. "She's got claim up dere I stake it for her. For me, I don' care if I lose mine plenty tam I come jus' so close as dis; but if dem feller jump her groun' " "Wait, wait! There's no question of anything like that. Nobody has jumped your claim, or hers, either. The law wouldn't let 'em.
"I was sent for," observed he, as we sat down to table, "to consult as to the propriety of requesting from the Pope the canonisation of the Soeur Eustasie, of whom you have heard so much, and whose disappearance has been attributed to miraculous agency: but during our consultation, a piece of information was sent in, which has very much changed the opinion of parties as to her reputed sanctity.
Between them they have quite worn you out." "Who told you I needed you?" asked Phebe, drawing the gentle hand down to her lips. "How did you happen to come just when I wanted you so?" "Denham sent me over," answered Soeur Angélique. "He thought perhaps I could make it a little quieter for you." "Ah," murmured Phebe. A faint tinge crept up into her white cheeks.
Even if we had not come from the Préfet, and with some of his family who were her admiring friends, I'm sure Soeur Julie would have welcomed the strangers. As it was she beamed with pleasure at the visit, and called a young nun to help place chairs for us all in the clean, bare reception room.
Since her illness she had always gone to bed early, and Soeur Lucie never did anything more than put her head in at the door, on her way to her own room, which was in a different part of the building, to see that all was dark and quiet; and if Madelon did not speak, would go away at once, satisfied that she was asleep.
Woe be to him who turns back the page! And it is time I went to call on poor Widow Brown." Soeur Angélique stood in the window as a moment later he passed by. He kissed his hand to her with a gay smile and went on. But she still stood there with the tears welling and welling in her eyes till they fell gently over upon her cheeks. She did not heed them, she was so busy with her thoughts.
Soeur Lucie, at any rate, was quite satisfied with her position, and this perfectly simple-minded, good-tempered little sister was a general favourite.
How does the leathery Frau Mama? Ha! Ha! Frau Mama! How does the Frau Mama? She makes the Papa tea! She makes the Papa tea! She makes the Papa leathery tea! Ha! Ha! Leathery tea! She makes the Papa tea! How does the Mamsell Soeur? How does the Mamsell Soeur? How does the leathery Mamsell Soeur? Ha! Ha! Mamsell Soeur! How does the Mamsell Soeur? She knits the Papa stockings!
He took up a chance book from the table, and turning to the window to catch the light, read a few lines to himself, then threw it down, and came forward with a smile. "There, I am ready now. Take my arm, Soeur Angélique. Miss Phebe, will you come, please?" Mrs. Upjohn was going to give an entertainment.
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