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Updated: June 11, 2025
Mildred said to Cyrilla: "No, don't move. We'll go into the drawing-room." He followed her there, and when the sound of Mrs. Brindley's step in the hall had died away, he began: "I think I understand you a little now. I shan't insult you by returning or destroying that note or the check. I accept your decision unless you wish to change it." He looked at her with eager appeal.
"I'll admit I couldn't," said Cyrilla. "And Mildred, you're making a mistake." "Then I'll have to suffer for it. I must do what seems best to me." "But I'm sure you're wrong. I never knew anyone to act as you're acting. Everyone rests and freshens up." Mildred lost patience, almost lost her temper. "You're trying to tempt me to ruin myself," she said. "Please stop it.
"This is serious," said the khaki boy, "when you consider that we've no provisions. Don't mind for myself, used to half rations or no rations at all. But these kiddies will have tremendous appetites." Then Aunt Cyrilla rose to the occasion. "I've got some emergency rations here," she announced. "There's plenty for all and we'll have our Christmas dinner, although a cold one. Breakfast first thing.
If she had been looking at her friend's face she would have flared out in anger; for Cyrilla Brindley was taking advantage of her abstraction to observe her with friendly sympathy and sadness. Presently she concealed this candid expression and said: "You are satisfied with your progress, aren't you, Miss Stevens?" Mildred flared up angrily. "Certainly!" replied she. "How could I fail to be?" Mrs.
It was not wise to risk raising an unjust doubt in the mind of a man who fancied that a woman who resisted him would be adamant to every other man. "Then I've got to guess again?" said she. "I've been asking her to marry me," said Stanley, who could contain it no longer. "Mrs. B. was released from me to-day by the court in Providence." "But SHE'S not free," said Cyrilla, a little severely.
When Lucy Rose met Aunt Cyrilla coming downstairs, somewhat flushed and breathless from her ascent to the garret, with a big, flat-covered basket hanging over her plump arm, she gave a little sigh of despair.
The train furnished a couple of glasses, a tin pint cup was discovered and given to the children, Aunt Cyrilla and Lucy Rose and the sealskin lady drank, turn about, from the latter's graduated medicine glass, the shop girl and the little mother shared one of the empty bottles, and the khaki boy, the minister, and the train men drank out of the other bottle.
Mildred listened, wondering why her dissatisfaction, her irritation, increased as Mrs. Brindley praised on and on. Beyond question Cyrilla was sincere, and was saying even more than Mildred had hoped she would say. Yet Mildred sat moodily measuring off octaves on the keyboard of the piano.
"I've just dropped in, Miss Blair," said that worthy woman, "to say that I dunno as I mind your making candy once in a while if you want to. Only do be careful not to set the place on fire. Please be particularly careful not to set it on fire." "We'll try," promised Cyrilla with dancing eyes. When the door closed behind Mrs. Plunkett the three girls looked at each other.
And regardless of what they think now, they'll be at my feet if I succeed, and they'll put me under theirs if I don't." "How hard you have grown," cried Cyrilla. "How sensible, you mean. I've merely stopped being a self-deceiver and a sentimentalist." "Believe me, my dear, you are sacrificing your character to your ambition." "I never had any real character until ambition came," replied Mildred.
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