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Updated: May 16, 2025
It grows cold. I enjoy that, but it is not very safe for you. And, pardon me, dear friend, I spoke harshly just now. I told you I was getting old. Put my words down to the peevishness of old age then." Katherine smiled at him with a sweet, half-playful humility. Her face was very wan. And speech not coming immediately to him, she spoke again. "You have always been very patient with me.
But, from this earliest note in the ascending scale of superstitious faith, let us pass to a more alarming key. It is the mere fancy, in a mood half-playful, half-tender, which submits to the belief. It is the feeling, the sentiment, which creates the faith; not the faith which creates the feeling.
The bluejay, with his handsome crested head on one side, cocked his bright black eye knowingly, and passed derisive remarks. Any one who has listened attentively to a bluejay must be deeply grateful that the gift of articulate speech has been wisely withheld from him; he is a hooligan of a bird. He lifted his wings like half-playful fists.
"Indeed I do not, uncle," replied Ada, as he came back, in a half-playful tone, calculated to disarm his anger. "You must acknowledge that the scene before us is very beautiful and enjoyable.
"Herz, mein Herz," died faintly away down the esplanade; there was nothing but the glitter of the bay, and the moon climbing higher and higher above the Isle of Portland. Anne spoke at last, amidst the half-playful, half-tender caresses that were so dear to Agatha, who had never known what it was to be calmly and safely in a mother's arms. Lying thus seemed most like it.
She remained in this reverie for some time, but was at last aroused by the entrance, unannounced, of a handsome young man dressed in the uniform of a lieutenant, when she started up, and meeting him, said in a half-vexed, half-playful tone: "Oh, Harry! why did you not come earlier? I have been waiting for your arrival over an hour!" "Excuse me, dearest," he answered.
Had it become overgrown, or had the surrounding timber been cut away, the professor would have taken it much to heart. A voluntary superstition of this kind is not uncommon in elderly gentlemen of more than ordinary intellectual power. It is a sort of half-playful revenge they wreak upon themselves for being so wise.
"I don't know how it is..." She stopped. And then, in half-playful accents: "So this is your little office!" Her hand was on the knob of the open door of the cubicle, a black erection within the shop, where Edwin and his father kept the accounts and wrote letters. "Yes. Go in and have a look at it." She murmured kindly: "Shall I?" and went in. He followed.
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