Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: August 31, 2025
It was its great resemblance to the 'Rebecca. Oh, do you know the picture, Mrs. Bodn?" "Yes, perfectly well," answered Mrs. Bodn, quietly; "but it was not painted by an English artist, it was the work of a young German who is now dead. He was very little known, though he did some fine work." "And did you know that the picture was so like you, Mrs. Bodn?"
"I don't think it's horrid at all. I like it." "B-o-d-n Bodn it sounds awfully common." "Why, Kitty, it's spelled B-o-w-d-o-i-n, the same as our Bowdoin Street, and pronounced Bod'n, as that is!" "Is it, really? I didn't know that." "I'm sure Bowdoin Street sounds well enough."
Oh, Laura, you're a treasure with that head of yours crammed full of facts, and I'll forgive you anything for this last little fact, even for neglecting me for that little Bodn girl!" "I haven't neglected you." "Well, snubbed me, then." "Nor snubbed you. I only want to be considerate and polite to Esther; that's all." "What a horrid name she has! Did you ever think of it, Laura Esther Bodn Bodn?"
Then all at once, as the declining beams sent a redder ray across the nose and chin, the question was answered. The red ray had also illumined Laura's own face, and Mrs. Bodn, turning suddenly, caught the girl's curiously animated expression, and asked inquiringly, "What is it, my dear?" and Laura answered eagerly,
There was a look in her father's face, as he spoke, that told Laura very plainly that all she had said had done more harm than good, and that henceforth there would be no more "sunset teas" with Esther Bodn.
"But, Laura, can't you postpone it? Tell her how it is, that mamma and papa are going away, and that Mary and Agnes are in New York, and I shall be all alone unless you come. Can't you do that, Laura?" "I don't want to do that, Kitty." "Oh, you'd rather go to that little Bodn girl's than to come to me!" "I didn't say that, and I didn't mean that, Kitty.
And the next moment Laura was being introduced to "My cousin, David Wybern," a tall, good-looking boy of fifteen or sixteen, with beautiful dark eyes like Mrs. Bodn's. The next moment after that, when this tall, good-looking boy, in addressing Mrs. Bodn, called her "Aunt Rebecca," like a flash these thoughts went flying through Laura's mind,
"My father's name was Henry Pierre Bowdoin." "Then, Mademoiselle," and Monsieur Baudouin stretched out his hand, and a smile lit up his face, "you must be a relation of mine; and three years ago, when I was in this country, and tried to find the American branch of our family that spelled its name Bowdoin and was called Bodn, but which was originally Baudouin, the old Huguenot name, I was told it had died out.
"Well, yes, I knew that it was thought to be like me when it was painted; and it ought to be, you know, for I sat for it, I was the model." "You were a a the model," gasped Laura, in astonishment. "Yes, I was a a the model," answered Mrs. Bodn, repeating Laura's own halting syllables, with an accent half of amusement, half of sarcasm.
But Jack said no more on that occasion, nor when his mother, the next day at luncheon, asked Laura what time Miss Bodn expected her, did the young gentleman make any remark. He had evidently forgotten the matter altogether; and Laura, without further anxiety, set out upon her little journey to McVane Street.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking