Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 19, 2025
In a dark closet opening out from it was another large bed. As he knocked and opened the door, he saw that Gretchen was not at home. Her father sat in a rocking-chair by an open window, on the sill of which stood a pot of carnations, the Easter gift of St. George's, a wax-faced, hollow-eyed man of gentle manners, who looked round wearily at the priest.
But be affected ignorance and said, as indifferently as he could, with those blue eyes upon him seeming to read his inmost thoughts: 'What letter do you mean? 'Why, the one Mr. Arthur wrote to Gretchen, or her friends, in Wiesbaden, and gave me to post. You took it for me to the office, and I sat on the gate so long in the darkness waiting for you to come and tell me you had posted it sure.
Over the hard-set visage of the innkeeper the bar of sunlight traveled; over the scowling countenance of the Prince, over the puzzled brow of the Count, and going, left a golden purple in its wake, which imperceptibly deepened. The Prince was first to speak. "I protest," said he. "Against what?" asked Gretchen. "It is the King's will that you become my wife.
"I can sing a little, play a little, embroider a little, and darn a little; but I can't do any of them well not well enough to be paid for it. "I think I'd like best to cook," she resumed, after a minute's silence, "and keep house. You know I loved that in Germany winters, when Gretchen used to bother us so much by not coming when we wanted her.
"Well, I hate him, and I'll never forgive him for tellin' you such a thing as that." "But, mother, don't you love the Master, and won't you be friendly and forgiving to Benjamin, for his sake? I wish you would. It would give you power; I want you to do so." "I'll think about it, Gretchen. I don't feel quite right about these things, and I'm goin' to have a good talk with Father Lee.
It annoys him to face the fact that he is about to fall in love with another. In my case I felt that there was some extenuation. Gretchen looked like Phyllis. When I saw Gretchen in the garden and then went to my room and gazed upon the likeness of Phyllis, I was much like the bachelor Heine tells about I doddered. The red squirrel in the branches above me looked wisely.
Now and then a girl of the commune had been married, and had ploughing in the fields or to her lace-weaving in the city. Bébée had thought little of it. "They marry or they do not marry. That is as it may be," said Flamen, with a smile. "Bébée, I must paint you as Gretchen before she made a love-dial of the daisies. What is the story? Oh, I have told you stories enough.
But is it right to leave you, mother?" "Mother!" how sweet that word sounded to poor Mrs. Woods! She had never been a mother. Tears filled her eyes she forced them back. "Yes, Gretchen go. I've always had to fight my way through the world, and I can continue to do so. I've had some things to harden my heart; but, no matter what you may do, Gretchen, I'll always be a mother to you.
Once or twice he has been the dead woman on the table, with little Gretchen beside him in the carpet-bag, and Tracy tugging with all his might to lift her out; but after the day when he let her fall, and gave her a big bump upon the forehead, that kind of play ceased, and the boy was compelled to try some other make believe than that of the tragedy on the wintry night many years before.
Just what Gretchen's letter to Arthur contained, Jerrie never knew, except that it was full of love and tenderness, with no word of complaint for the neglect and forgetfulness which must have hastened her death. 'Oh, Gretchen, I can't bear it, I can't, Arthur moaned, as he laid his hand upon Jerrie's shoulder and sobbed like a child. 'To think I could forget her, and she so sweet and good.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking