United States or Turkmenistan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Just outside the door, Allyn was toiling handily in her behalf; and, strange to say, she was free from the obstacle she had most feared, that Melchisedek would get under her feet at some critical moment, and project her headlong, roast and all, upon the smooth bald pate of Mr. Gilwyn. To her relief, the dog had mysteriously vanished.
Quantuck proved to be an old vacation ground for Mr. Gilwyn, and he and Billy vied with each other in stories of the days when golf links were not, and the post office was still of the peripatetic variety, while Cicely kept close guard on her lips, lest she should involuntarily be drawn into adding her share to the conversation. Then all at once, Billy fell from grace, even as Theodora had done.
I was up there, this afternoon, and I must have left it open." "And you've had it all this time?" "Yes." "You silly old boy!" Her face had grown scarlet and her eyes were shining. Then she turned to her mystified guest. "Excuse this family by-play, Mr. Gilwyn; but that was a lock of hair I cut off, in the early days of our acquaintance, and my husband has kept it ever since.
Gilwyn looked as if his sense of humor were somewhat deficient; but he was a married man, and it was barely possible that his wife had not always escaped from similar experiences. Accordingly, she put on her most brilliant smile and leaned forward slightly in her chair. "Mr. Gilwyn," she was beginning. "Grrrrr! Grrrrr! Grrrrr! Woo woo woof!"
Gilwyn is a pompous, gouty old soul, and moreover, he holds my fortunes in the hollow of his hand." "How do you know he is coming?" "A note, this morning. He hopes to see me at his lecture, and so on." "Let's shut up the house and run down to New York, for a day or two," Billy said hospitably. "No use. I should feel guilty to the end of my days, and embody my guilt in my next book.
You see a small dog in the family is rather destructive to sentiment." When the carriage was announced, Theodora was upstairs, putting on her hat. Mr. Gilwyn came down the stairs and marched straight to the dining-room where Cicely, divested of her cap and encased in a gingham apron, was busy clearing the table.
Patrick is a treasure and good for almost everything in the line of work; but I never discovered that he could cook succulently. I should live through that crisis, William; but there is a worse one. Mr. Gilwyn is going to lecture here, next week, and he will expect us to entertain him." "What of it? We can buy things." "Yes, William, and we must also cook things.
He bore something in his mouth, something long and flexible and brown; and he danced up and down the room, worrying it and growling, worrying it again and yelping. Unhappily Mr. Gilwyn disliked small dogs, especially small dogs of frisky habits, and he showed his dislike quite frankly. "Cicely, can you catch him?" Theodora demanded.
Gilwyn looked surprised. He had known eccentric authors in his day; moreover, he was aware that many housekeepers were women of theories in regard to the proper relation between mistress and maid. Still, he had never supposed that the spirit of domestic regeneration included a system of public endearments.
Word Of The Day