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"It's Miss Joe Hill," whispered Floss, with trepidation; "I am going out the way I came. Don't you forget; you have promised." When Miss Joe Hill entered, she smiled complacently at finding Miss Lucinda in the straight-back chair, absorbed in the second volume of the "Power Through Poise."
The house had been cleaned thoroughly the day before, rugs shaken, mirrors polished, floors oiled; the grand piano had been closed, and pushed against the wall; the reading-table had been cleared, and wheeled out under the turn of the stairway; the pretty drawing-room and square big entrance hall had been emptied to make room for the seven little card-tables that were already set up, and for the twenty-eight straight-back chairs that Mrs.
And hereupon he changed the subject. When bedtime came the old gentleman stood on a rug in front of a large fire-place, meditatively winding his watch. His wife sat on a straight-back chair, glancing over the harmless advertisements in a religious newspaper.
That was one of Miss Joe Hill's sternest requirements fifteen minutes three times a day and two pints of water between meals. Then she sat down in a straight-back chair and tried to read "The Power Through Poise." Her body was doing its duty, but it did not deceive her mind. She knew that she was living a life of black deception; evidences of her guilt were on every hand.
"Father would love to have come," began Connie glibly, but Miss Lady broke in: "I don't think he really wanted to come, Mrs. Sequin. He said he would be ever so much happier up in his study, playing pinocle, than sitting out here in a straight-back gilt chair eating ice cream. Perhaps you think I oughtn't to have come without him?" "Nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Sequin.
"You are pursuing the same avocation in the city concerning which you have advised us from time to time by letter, I trust," said her father. "Yes," said Mary, "I am still reviewing books for the same publication." After breakfast she helped wash the dishes, and then all three sat in straight-back chairs in the bare-floored parlor.
"I want to know," he said, "all about myself." She laughed lightly as she seated herself in an old-fashioned straight-back chair. "If I should tell you that," she said, "I would give you the sum and substance of human wisdom. That seems to me the greatest mystery of the unknowable. No human being ever thoroughly understood any other human being, I suppose, and yet no human being knows himself.
It slanted here, it slanted there, steeply or gradually according to the demands of the roof outside. There May, Johnny and Martin curled up on the western window seat; Bobby and Carter Irvine sat on the floor; Caroline drew up a straight-back chair. Then while the twilight lasted they "talked," in children's aimless fashion, about everything, anything or nothing. By and by somebody yawned.
Belle, with her self-confidence, peculiar to this particular occasion, took her place over by the window in a huge, straight-back chair the kind built with "storm doors at the back." The sad-eyed woman smiled with her lips, but her eyes "remained at half mast," as Clip put it.
Plint's fiddle hung against the wall in her little room with whitened floor and straight-back chairs, and I could not keep back the tears when I noticed that she had a bunch of wild violets tied to the old bow. She noticed it and burst into tears herself, crying: "That there fiddle was no use no way, but seems now I kinder reckon on 't."
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