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Updated: June 10, 2025
Nor had the boys been allowed to visit Beverly, the male sex being regarded by Miss Woodhull as a sort of natural enemy whose sole aim in life was to circumvent, deprive and rob hers of its just rights. Miss Woodhull was essentially a militant suffragette and her stanch admirers, Miss Baylis and Miss Stetson were her enthusiastic partisans.
"Oh, how our hearts went up in thankfulness to God for sparing mercies! A few moments more, and we dread to think of what might have been. Miss Baylis' door being ajar, the smoke got in; mine was shut, my room was free, but I saw the light on the window. Miss Moore was in Miss Lowe's bedroom; she could not realise it, and, after being first roused, was going to bed again.
It seems so sort of of oh, I don't know just how to tell you. I'd like to like Miss Woodhull but she'd freeze a polar bear, and I believe she just hates girls even though she keeps a girl's school. And Miss Stetson must have been fed on vinegar when she was a baby, and Miss Baylis is the limit, and Miss Forsdyke lives in Rome." "Is anybody just right?" asked the Admiral, quizzically.
Meanwhile the school was being conducted by Miss Baylis, who for five blissful weeks reigned supreme, while "hope" hinted a permanent one. But, alas! nothing is so delusive as human hope. That city across the sea settled Miss Baylis' plans, and Miss Woodhull's future. Over there she could chuck books at the heads of dignified judges and glory in seeing the old gentlemen dodge.
You remember Maitland going to prison, of course?" Miss Baylis laughed a laugh of scorn. "Could I ever forget it?" she exclaimed. "Did you ever visit him in prison?" asked Spargo. "Visit him in prison!" she said indignantly. "Visits in prison are to be paid to those who deserve them, who are repentant; not to scoundrels who are hardened in their sin!" "All right.
"I hardly know how to begin, it still seems so terrible and real. "We had had a happy Sabbath. We were to have an early breakfast next morning, and I awoke in the night thinking it was daylight. Miss Baylis came to my door, which was shut, saying, 'Miss Bilbrough, there's smoke! "I jumped up, and oh, the feeling, when I saw the house full of dense white smoke! I knew well what it must be.
It was Beverly who asked innocently: "Excuse me, Miss Baylis, but did you tell us to begin our literature papers at the ninety-fifth line of Pope's Essay on Man: 'Hope springs eternal'?" "We ended our literature recitation ten minutes ago, Beverly. If you were so inattentive as to miss what I said that is your misfortune," was the austere retort. Nevertheless, the shot had told.
Now Miss Baylis at her very best was not a restful individual with whom to come in touch, and after a long morning of hard work and the growing hunger of healthy appetites for food for the body rather than for the mind, the girls did not find "a barbed tongue" and a caustic disposition soothing.
That spring settled his fate with Miss Woodhull: No girl in Leslie Manor could have performed such a feat, and all the dancers were staring speechless. It was the ominous silence before the storm. "That masquerader is not a girl, Miss Bonnell! It is some boy! Who has perpetrated this outrage? Miss Baylis, order all the outer doors closed and guarded and a thorough search made.
Just at present she was too much amused by Miss Baylis' attitude toward Sally, who had told her of some of the funny scenes at Kittery Point, to think much about Petty's love affairs, and before luncheon was over a diversion was created, which made her entirely forget it. For some time, "Aunt Sally Jefferson," the cook at Leslie Manor had been ailing, and had recently gone away to "res' up." Mrs.
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