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Updated: July 17, 2025
"If you were not Debby would not have let me become engaged to you," she finished childishly. "Debby made inquiries about me," said Paul, laughing, to cheer her. "Yes! she sent Bart to Wargrove and found out all about me and my family and my respected father. She wished to be certain that I was a proper lover for her darling."
Carroll, who walked out of her dressing-room an animated bale of blue cloth surmounted by a gigantic sun-bonnet. Mr. Leavenworth was in waiting, and so like a blond-headed lobster in his scarlet suit that Debby could hardly keep her countenance as they joined the groups of bathers gathering along the breezy shore.
Miss Richards worked on the center-piece she was embroidering. Debby leaned back in her chair. Her eyes rested upon the dying coals of the grate. Hester's childlike chatter had started her thinking on matters she tried to keep back in her memory. She blushed at her foolishness.
"Oh, Sylvia, not so much as that." "Well, then, thirty and over," insisted Sylvia. "Debby thinks the same as I do." "Don't you think Debby's zeal may lead her to exaggerate?" "It doesn't lead me to exaggerate," said Sylvia, slightly offended; "and I have eyes in my head as well as Debby. That girl, or that woman, I should say, is over thirty, Paul."
Evan does not seem very anxious to claim our acquaintance, after all, and I think better of him on that account. Has he spoken to you to-night, Dora?" asked Mrs. Carroll, as Debby dropped down beside her after a "splendid polka." "No, ma'am, he only bowed.
So I'll see if I can't help Debby about getting tea." There was not much said for a time, however. Mrs Inglis evidently made a great effort to say something, and asked about Frank and the family generally, and then said something about his journey, and then about the sudden breaking-up of the winter roads. Mr Oswald felt it to be cruel to make her speak at all, and turned to the children.
Hester had come prepared to do her part in the furnishings. Debby Alden, acting upon Miss Richards's suggestion, had selected for Hester, fancy covers, cushions and a few pictures. Hester had not realized the importance of the accessories until the "fixing up" fever was apparent.
Here's Debby." Sylvia looked up, and threw herself into the faithful servant's arms. "Oh, Debby, he loves me still; he's going to marry me whenever he can." Deborah laughed and wiped Sylvia's tears away with her coarse apron, tenderly. "You silly flower," she cried caressingly; "you foolish queen of 'oney bees, of course he have you in his 'eart.
When Debby awoke, she awoke to a cup of tea ready for her to drink in bed an unprecedented luxury, which she received with infinite consternation and pleasure. "Why, it's like the duchesses who have lady's-maids," she said, "and read French novels before getting up." To complete the picture, her hand dived underneath the bed and extracted a London Journal, at the risk of upsetting the tea.
After the flutter occasioned by being scooped into her seat by a severe-nosed waiter, Debby had only courage enough left to refuse tea and coffee and accept milk. That being done, she took the first familiar viand that appeared, and congratulated herself upon being able to get her usual breakfast.
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