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Open the second of 'em.... Or maybe you'd better look through all of them.... Only please ... please hurry!" Imploringly the little head lifted. "If I hurry enough," said the Lay Reader quite impulsively, "may I have a kiss when I get back?" "A kiss?" hooted Flame. In the curve of her cheek a dimple opened suddenly. "Well ... maybe," said Flame.
"I thought Florence would like one, so I brought two, as near alike as if they were cousins," he added. "Oh! you preciousest papa," said Dimple; "let me hug you all to pieces. I do think you are the most delightful man. I don't wonder mamma married you.
"I wonder if Amelia likes picnics?" "Don't! You make me feel creepy," Laura Ann laughed. "What I wonder is how she'd have looked if she'd ever been born. I lay awake one night trying to imagine Amelia." "Blue eyes and golden hair," Loraine chimed in dreamily, "and a little dimple in her chin." "You needn't any of you lie awake nights imagining. I can tell you," the Talented One said.
Hardy wants me to go to the city with her to-morrow, and I promised Sylvy some time ago that she should have the day; she wants to go off on an excursion, and has been making great preparations. I could not have the heart to disappoint her, and your papa will not be at home for another week, so I am very doubtful about leaving you." "Oh! do go, mamma," cried Dimple, clapping her hands.
In the mean time, I view intently the effect of them, which to me at last appeared surprisingly cruel: every lash had skimmed the surface of those white cliffs, which they deeply reddened, and lapping round the side of the furthermost from me, cut specially, into the dimple of it, such livid weals, as the blood either spun out from, or stood in large drops on; and, from some of the cuts, I picked out even the splinters of the rod that had stuck in the skin.
"Oh, we can leave the rest out," said Miss May, with a sudden dimple; "they don't matter." "Very well," said the philosopher, "if they are irrelevant we will put them aside." "Suppose, then, that one of these men was, oh, awfully in love with the girl, and and proposed, you know " "A moment!" said the philosopher, opening a note-book. "Let me take down his proposition. What was it?"
George's mental dictum, "but a very handsome and fascinating man. I never saw such a splendid chin and dimple." Lucinda, with bronze-colored hair and the whitest of skins, defiant of merciless sunlight and revelling in the crisp air, sat on the sill of the open window behind the crimson vine leaves, looking out into the garden, where dahlias flamed and asters broke into waves of purple and snow.
I asked him to tell me if there were any mark upon the neck, near one ear, and he described the precise locality and outline of a tiny brown fleck, no larger than a pin's head. He told of any little dimple, of any sweep of the downward growth of the brown hair, of any trifling scar from childhood. And of her chin and neck he told the very markings, in a way that was something wonderful.
And thus deserted, the flush rose up under Miss Wingate's eyes and a dimple teased at the corner of her red lips, but she busied herself with removing the plate from under Martin Luther's yellow mop and making a pillow of her own bare arm, against which he nestled his chubby little cheek with a sigh of content, as he drifted off into his usual after-dinner nap.
"My mamma doesn't care; she lets me go whenever I please, and sometimes I help Bubbles clean knives and do such things, so she can get through, and play with me sooner." "Sylvy, we are coming to watch you make cake; may we?" "I'm not a carin'!" said Sylvy. "Git 'round on the other side of the table." "See her break the eggs," said Florence. "Could you do it, Dimple?
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