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"Just Eugenia's age, I believe, and she must be an interestin' sort of girl, for she draws beautifully. Mothah says that her sketches are fine, and that Joyce will be a real artist when she is grown." "Number two is all right," said Rob, with an approving nod. "Next!" The Little Colonel held out the third envelope.

Pett had crumpled up Eugenia's sister with about three firm speeches. It could be done. . . . "What have you to say, Bingley?" Mr. Crocker drew himself up. "Just this!" he said. "I'm an American citizen, and the way I've figured it out is that my place is in America. It's no good talking about it, Eugenia. I'm sorry if it upsets your plans, but I am not going back to London!"

Her first impressions of New York will be worth hearing." He scanned the pages of the telephone directory for the number he wanted. "Yes, she and Betty are to spend their vacation with me. We are going out to Eugenia's to-morrow afternoon to spend Christmas eve and part of Christmas day." "Then that was the surprise that Eugenia wrote about," said Phil, taking out his watch.

Webb's, the older woman looked at her almost affectionately. "I had a letter from Dudley this morning," she said. "He is coming down next week for Sunday." A flush crossed Eugenia's face, evoking an expression of irritation. "You must miss him," she observed sympathetically. "I do miss him, but he comes often. He is a good son. He sent a message to you, by the way, but it was not important."

Then followed a series of angry words, and bitter recriminations, by which the entire history of Eugenia's selfish treatment of her cousin, even to the cutting off her hair more than two years before, was disclosed to Mr. Hastings, who, immeasurably shocked and sick at heart, turned away just as Mrs.

Several times a day, after the passing of the trains, Alec came up from the station with express packages. Most of them were wedding presents, which the bridesmaids pounced upon and carried away to the green room to await Eugenia's arrival. Every package was the occasion of much guessing and pinching and wondering, and the mystery was almost as exciting as the opening would have been.

In reality it was not quite an hour that she kept her solitary vigil in the lane. As she rode back and forth she could catch glimpses of Eugenia's pink dress inside the tent, where they were all gathered around the old fortune-teller. Now and then she heard voices and laughter, and it gave her such a lonely, left-out feeling that she could scarcely keep back the tears.

He said a seven-year-old child ought to know better than to do a thing like that, and if she didn't she should be taught. But mamma wouldn't let him touch me, and only scolded the nurse for not watching me more closely." "Now it is Betty's turn," said Joyce, when the giggling that followed Eugenia's tale had subsided. "What mischief did you get into, Betty?"

Deane, who really cared but little for music, and was the more willing to accede to Eugenia's proposal. "Why, yes," answered the young lady. "I think it would be pleasanter so if he says he can accompany me, you go home, like a dear good old woman as you are." And tying on her bonnet, Eugenia went out to keep her appointment, finding Mr. Hastings there before her, as she had expected.

When dinner was over he was glancing through the paper, wondering how he should spend the evening, when a note arrived by a messenger. He saw it was for Hyacinth, and in Eugenia's handwriting. A few minutes later she came down, holding it in her hand. 'Cecil, she has written to me. She says they're going for a long yachting cruise, that they won't be back in their house for a year.