Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 11, 2025
She seems so generally bent upon having a good time and being liked, admired. She is simply frank where Miss Dayre was independent. She does everything, rows and rides and plays out-of-door games, even to belonging to an archery club. But needlework is her abhorrence, and with all her restless youth she has a great grace of repose as she sits in the willow veranda chair.
Latimer gave a nursery tea-party," explains Eugene, "or garden party, was it not?" "Here is my old friend, Mrs. Wilbur," she says. "Tomorrow Mrs. Dayre and her daughter will be here. Is not Floyd home yet?" Violet answers the last as she is introduced to Mrs. Wilbur, a pleasant old lady with a rosy face surrounded by silvery curls. "What a lovely child!" exclaims Mrs. Wilbur.
Floyd bites his lips, and wonders if Eugene is paying back a mortification. "Oh, mamma will play," exclaims Bertie, with alacrity. "She is wonderfully good at such music, though Mrs. Grandon plays in exquisite time. Mamma." "Don't trouble her," entreats Floyd. Bertie is resolute, Mrs. Dayre obliging, and comes in from her balcony seat. "Violet," says Mr. Grandon, "will you waltz awhile? Mrs.
Oddly enough, he has heard about the waltzing from Eugene, who desires to put it in its true light. It occurs one evening when he and Miss Dayre have been spinning and floating and whirling through drawing-room and hall, while Violet plays with fingers that seem bewitched and shake out showers of delicious melody. They have paused to take breath.
I think we had better plan some entertainments. What would you like a garden party? I want to render Grandon Park attractive to Miss Murray." "Is she like Miss Dayre?" asks Violet, gravely. "She is a pretty girl with the usual fair hair," and he smiles. "No, I fancy she is not like Miss Dayre, and yet I thought Bertie Dayre oddly entertaining. Miss Murray is fond of dancing.
Indeed, Bertie Dayre impresses you with the certainty that she does know a great deal, the outcome of her confident belief in her own shrewd, far-sighted eyes. "But I love Cecil very much," returns Violet, so earnestly that Bertie stares. "There are some women to whom children are more than the husband," announces this wise young woman. "I should want to have the highest regard for my husband.
"Which they waltzed when they came out of the ark," laughs Bertie, "but it is lovely." The strain touches Violet. The great animating hope for joy has dropped out of her life, but youth is left, and youth cannot help being moved. Mrs. Dayre plays with an enchanting softness, and they float up and down as in some tranced sea. "She waltzes fairly," comments Miss Dayre, "only she should be taller.
Dayre has kindly offered to play." "I am not tired," answers Violet, in that curious, breathless tone which is almost a refusal. "But I want you to," declares Bertie. "Mr. Eugene has so roused my curiosity." Floyd takes her hand with a certain sense of mastery, and she yields. It is not the glad, joyous alacrity she has heretofore evinced.
Eugene has no need to devote himself to Miss Brade, he cannot even attend to Miss Bertie's pressing needs, and Floyd is called in to fill empty spaces. All men seem created with a manifest purpose of adding to her steady enjoyment. "I think you were very short-sighted to marry so young," says Miss Dayre, calmly, to Violet, as they are driving out one morning.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking