United States or Gibraltar ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
She seemed so set on that Mr. Popple's coming round. From the way he acted last night she thought he'd be sure to come round this morning. She's so lonesome, poor child I can't say as I blame her." "Oh, he'll come round. Things don't happen as quick as that in New York," said Mrs. Heeny, driving her nail-polisher cheeringly. Mrs. Spragg sighed again. "They don't appear to.
Lipscomb's large blond person surged across the threshold. "Seems to me I ought to lend a hand to-night, considering I was the one that introduced them!" Undine forced a smile, but Mrs. Spragg, her soft wrinkles deepening with resentment, muttered to Mrs. Heeny, as she bent down to shake out the girl's train: "I guess my daughter's only got to show herself " The first meeting with old Mr.
Heeny sighed, as the pink petals sank into the hair above the girl's forehead. Undine pushed her chair back, and sat supporting her chin on her clasped hands while she studied the result of Mrs. Heeny's manipulations. "Yes that's the way Mrs. Peter Van Degen's flower was put in the other night; only hers was a camellia. Do you think I'd look better with a camellia?" "I guess if Mrs.
In such hours of self-searching she was ready enough to acknowledge her own mistakes, but they exasperated her less than the blunders of her parents. She was sure, for instance, that she was on what Mrs. Heeny called "the right tack" at last: yet just at the moment when her luck seemed about to turn she was to be thwarted by her father's stupid obstinacy about the opera-box...
At Apex, however, she had belonged to a social club, and, until they moved to the Mealey House, had been kept busy by the incessant struggle with domestic cares; whereas New York seemed to offer no field for any form of lady-like activity. She therefore took her exercise vicariously, with Mrs. Heeny's help; and Mrs. Heeny knew how to manipulate her imagination as well as her muscles. It was Mrs.
Your Pa never ? Why, land alive!" Mrs. Heeny gasped, a blush empurpling her large warm face. "Why, Paul Marvell, don't you remember your own father, you that bear his name?" she exclaimed. The boy blushed also, conscious that it must have been wrong to forget, and yet not seeing how he was to blame. "That one died a long long time ago, didn't he? I was thinking of my French father," he explained.
"I guess it's meant for me," she merely threw over her shoulder at her mother. "Did you EVER, Mrs. Heeny?" Mrs. Spragg murmured with deprecating pride. Mrs. Heeny, a stout professional-looking person in a waterproof, her rusty veil thrown back, and a shabby alligator bag at her feet, followed the mother's glance with good-humoured approval.
Undine stood for a moment with bright cheeks and parted lips; then she flung her soft arms about the masseuse. "Oh Mrs. Heeny you're lovely to me!" she breathed, her lips on Mrs. Heeny's rusty veil; while the latter, freeing herself with a good-natured laugh, said as she turned away: "Go steady. Undine, and you'll get anywheres." GO STEADY, UNDINE! Yes, that was the advice she needed.
They plan to spend their springs in France." Mrs. Heeny drew a long breath, folded the paper and took off her spectacles. "There," she said, with a benignant smile and a tap on Paul's cheek, "now you see how it all happened...." Paul was not sure he did; but he made no answer. His mind was too full of troubled thoughts.
Heeny: "No, not by this post either I begin to think I must have lost a letter"; and it was then that Mr. Spragg, who had sat silently looking up at the ceiling, cut short his wife's exclamation by an enquiry about real estate in the Bronx. After that, Ralph noticed, Mrs.
Word Of The Day