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Updated: June 29, 2025


Every pleasant afternoon, while the building was upon the rollers, we walked over, and went up into all the rooms, and looked out of every window, noting what new pictures they gave as the position changed from day to day; how now this tree and now that shaded them: how we gradually came to see by the end of the Haddens' barn, and at last across it, for the slope, though gradual, was long, and how the sunset came in more and more, as we squared toward the west; and there was always a thrill of excitement when we felt under us, as we did again and again, the onward momentary surge of the timbers, as the workmen brought all rightly to bear, and the great team of oxen started up.

They were quite a little coterie by themselves. It shaped itself to this more and more. Leslie did not neglect her own party. She drove and walked with Mrs. Linceford, and was ready for anything the Haddens really wanted of her; but Mrs.

You needn't keep asking how we know! Things that belong get together. People who tell a story see round corners. The next morning Maud Marchbanks came over, and asked us all to play croquet and drink tea with them that evening, with the Goldthwaites and the Haddens. "We're growing very gay and multitudinous," she said, graciously. "The midshipman's got home, Harry Goldthwaite, you know."

One Monday night we went down as usual; some of us came in, for we had been playing croquet until into the twilight, and the Haddens had just gone away, so we were later than usual at our laundry work. Leslie and Harry went round with Rosamond to the front door; Ruth slipped in at the back, and mother came down when she found that Rosamond had not been released.

Hobart said she hoped she would come often, and let the girls run in and be sociable! And Grace Hobart says 'she hasn't got tired of croquet, she likes it real well! They're that sort of people, Mr. Thayne." "Oh! that's very bad," said Dakie Thayne, with grave conclusiveness. "The Haddens had them one night, when we were going to play commerce.

"A fresh fig-leaf for you, my dear." "What does she mean?" cried the Haddens, coming close to see. "Only a little Paradise fashion of speech between Cousin Del and me," said Leslie, coloring a little and laughing, while she began, somewhat hurriedly, to remove the wrappings. "What have you done?

"Not everybody, of course," said Rose, "That would be a confusion. Just the neighbors, right around here." "That takes in the Hobarts, and leaves out Leslie Goldthwaite," said Ruth, quietly. "O, Leslie will be at the Haddens', or here," replied Rosamond. "Grace Hobart is nice," she went on; "if only she wouldn't be 'real' nice!" "That is just the word for her, though," said Ruth.

Leslie loved it, and had a pride in it all; it was not, truly and only, humiliation and disgust at self-comparison with the Haddens, but some other and unexplained doubt which moved her now, and which was stirred often by this, or any other of the objects and circumstances of her life, and which kept her standing there with her hand upon the bureau-knob, in a sort of absence, while Cousin Delight looked in, approved, and presently dropped quietly among the rest, like a bit of money into a contribution-box, the delicate breadths of linen cambric she had just finished hemstitching and rolled together.

All Saints' Day fell on Monday; the Sunday made double hallowing, Barbara said; and Saturday was the "E'en." We did not mean to invite until Wednesday; on Tuesday Ruth came home and told us that Olivia and Adelaide Marchbanks were getting up a Halloween themselves, and that the Haddens were asked already; and that Lily and Reba were in transports because they were to be allowed to go.

Originating was usually done higher up; as the Papal Council gives forth new spiritual inventions for the joyful acceptance of believers, who may by no means invent in their turn and offer to the Council. One could hardly tell how it would fall out, whether the Haddens and the Marchbankses would take to it, or whether it would drop right there.

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