Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 2, 2025
In another week she had a typewritten reply from Farraday, saying that the serial had been most favorably reported, that the Company would buy it for fifteen hundred dollars, with a guarantee to begin serialization within the year, on receipt of the final chapters, that they enclosed a contract, and were hers faithfully, etc.
She was overjoyed at the change, and for her own part never tired of working in the house and garden, striving to make more perfect the atmosphere of simple homeliness which Farraday had first imparted to them. Lily was fascinated by her kitchen and little white bedroom. "This surely is a cute little house, yes, ma'am," she would exclaim emphatically, with a grin.
Besides," he smiled, "he's a linguistic specialist." "You think slang is an indication of local patriotism?" asked Mary. "Certainly," said Farraday. "If we love a place we adopt its customs." "That's quite true," Stefan agreed.
Was it to be born out here by the sea, instead of in the dusty, overcrowded city? She strained her eyes down the road. "It's only half a mile," called Farraday from the wheel, "and a mile and a half from the station." They swung down a hill, up again, round a bend, and there was a grassy plateau overlooking the water, backed by a tree-clad slope.
He did not know how intensely she longed for this, how she ached to see Stefan jab his finger at the baby as McEwan did, or watch it with the tender smile of Farraday. She tried a thousand simple wiles to bring to life the father in him. About to nurse the baby, she would call Stefan to see his eager search for the comfort of her breast, looking up in proud joy as the tiny mouth was satisfied.
Stefan threw both arms round Miss McCullock's shoulders and hugged her like a child. "Oh, hurrah!" he cried, almost sobbing with relief. "Bless you, nurse. Is she all right?" "She's perfect I've never seen finer condition. You can come up in a few minutes, the doctor says, and see her before she goes to sleep." "There's nothing needed, nurse?" asked Farraday, rising. "Nothing at all, thank you."
The collaboration of husband and wife would have been an attraction, even though the names were unknown here. I'll get Ledward to do them." Stefan sat up. "You don't mean Metcalf Ledward, the painter, do you?" he exclaimed. "Yes," replied Farraday quietly; "he often does things for us our policy is to popularize the best American artists." Stefan was nonplused. Ledward illustrating Mary's rhymes!
The last time she shook her head, with one of her rare attempts at explanation, made less rarely to him than to her other friends. "No, Mr. Farraday, I can't think about imaginary children just now. There's a spell over me all the world waits, and I'm holding my breath. Do you see?" He took her hand between both his.
"Rosamond is almost asleep," smiled Mary. "Don't rise, my dear," said the little lady, "we'll find our own way." "Good-bye, Farraday," said Stefan, "and thank you for everything." Mary held out her hand to them both, and they slipped quietly out. "What a good day it has been, dearest. I hope you aren't too tired," she said, as she rocked the drowsy baby. "No, Beautiful, only a little."
"Indeed, I'm not a bit tired," said Mary, who had never felt better. "All the same I would rest a little if I were thee," Mrs. Farraday nodded wisely. Mary was fascinated by her grammar, never having met a Quaker before. The little lady, who barely reached her guest's shoulder, had such an air of mingled sweetness and dignity as to make Mary feel she must instinctively yield to her slightest wish.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking