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Updated: May 28, 2025
She mimicked every beast and bird she could think of on the way home, to wipe him and his horse from the memory of Dorman, whose capacity for telling things best left untold was simply marvelous. It is saying much for Beatrice's powers of entertainment that Dorman quite forgot to say anything about Mr.
Latham's compliments to Miss Dorman." "What luxury!" exclaimed Miss Lavinia, turning out the flowers upon the table in the tea room where she kept her window garden, "and how pale and spindling my poor posies look in comparison. Are these from the Bluffs?" "Oh no, from Newport," replied Sylvia.
"Hush, Dick; don't spoil everything. You don't know Dorman. "Beatrice! What must Miss Hayes and Sir Redmond think of you? I'm sure Dorman is a sweet child, the image of poor, dear Dorothea, at his age." "We all think Dorman bears a strong resemblance to his father," said his Aunt Mary. Beatrice, scenting trouble, hurried to change the subject. "What's this, Dick the Missouri River?" "Hardly.
Dorman squirmed around till he could look at the two, and his eyebrows were tied in a knot. "I wish, Be'trice, you wouldn't talk, 'less you whisper. De fishes won't bite a bit." "All right, honey we won't." Dorman turned back to his fishing with a long breath of relief. His divinity never broke a promise, if she could help it.
"I want Be'trice!" Dorman set up his everyday howl, which started the dogs barking outside. His guardian angel attempted to soothe him, but he would have none of her; he only howled the louder, and kicked. "There, there, honey, I'll go. Where's your hat?" "Beatrice, you had better stay in the house; you have done quite enough for one day." The tone of the mother suggested things.
You blessed twins! here is another advantage I owe to you at last a promised visit from Lavinia Dorman! Ah, as I push my book into the desk the reason for its title turns up before me, worded in Martin Cortright's precise language: "Everything, my dear Barbara, has a precedent in history or the basis of it.
It occurred to Beatrice that an unsophisticated girl might easily think Keith in earnest, with that look in his eyes. Dorman, scowling at them over his shoulder, unconsciously did his divinity a service. Beatrice pursed her lips in a way that drove Keith nearly wild, and took up the weapon of silence. "You said you women are alone where is milord?"
If everybody got together and fought the notion, you would probably elope with milord inside a week. Mother means well, but she isn't on to her job a little bit. She ought to turn up her nose at the title." "No fear of that! I've had it before my eyes till I hate the very thought of it. I I wish I could hate him." Beatrice sighed deeply, and gave her hand to Dorman, who scurried up to her.
Their National Association sent Miss Marjorie Dorman to Omaha the last of September, who opened headquarters on the first floor of the City National Bank. Mrs. A. J. George was sent in October. On November 2 there appeared in the morning papers a double-column appeal to the Catholics to vote against the amendment because back of it were the Socialists, feminists, etc. It was signed by Mrs.
Down by the creek, where the willows nodded to their own reflections in the still places, it was cool and sweet scented, and Beatrice forgot her grievances, and was not sorry she had come. "Don't run ahead so, Dorman," Beatrice cautioned. To her had been given the doubtful honor of carrying the baking-powder can of grasshoppers. Even divinities must make themselves useful to man. "Why, Be'trice?"
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