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Updated: July 28, 2025
"You'll have to take it down, I guess so you can get at it all over," said Polly. "Do you know it will really help it?" "Grandaunt Susie said her hair was so thin you could see through it, and when she was at our house it was as thick as as thick as mine." "Oh, I'm going to try that my hair's all coming out!" Miss Lily drew her pins from the thin coil. Mrs. Grace and Mrs.
I have a lively recollection of an old grandaunt of mine, who used to dun every one she met for a shilling for the benefit of the souls of the natives of Southern Africa, and as I know that the shillings never went beyond ministering to the wants of this aged relative, warned by precocious experience, I have not allowed myself to be caught by the "ladies."
Polly laughed in sympathy. "Look here!" The little lady raised herself on her elbow and lifted her chin. "See that!" Polly peered at the fair, pink skin. "What? I don't see anything." "Why, that! It's getting wabbly." Her slim forefinger pushed the flesh back and forth. "Oh!" Polly's face brightened. "I remember! That's what Grandaunt Susie called it!
Her imagination, always active, for one wild moment suggested that old Grandaunt Crosbie from over the seas had remembered her poor relatives and worked the miracle; she always had Grandaunt Crosbie as a possible trump in the hand of fate. And then the dull reality shattered her foolish castle she was in the wrong room.
A song has been made upon Lord Bolingbroke on the subject of his passion for a young girl who escaped from her convent. Some persons say that the girl was a professed nun. She ran after the Duke Regent a long time, but could not accomplish her intention. Lady Gordon, the grandaunt of Lord Huntley, was my dame d'atour for a considerable period.
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