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Updated: June 17, 2025
Edith sighed, but said, "All right." She wanted to row; but she wanted even more to get Maurice good-natured again. "He's huffy," she told herself; "he's mad at Eleanor, and so am I; but it's no sense to take my head off!" Still, she hated not to look at the lady that Maurice said was not a lady.
When the two boys were left alone with the captain the latter inquired: "How old are you?" "Seventeen," growled Rodney. "Well, you will have to stay in ninety days after your term expires. Will that make you eighteen?" "No, it wouldn't; and if it did they would be careful not to say so." "Then I don't see what reason you have to get huffy over a thing that can't be helped," continued the officer.
So perhaps if he gets fond of me he'll forgive Peter sometime." "He's an implacable old beggar," Denis said. "It's stupid of him. It never seems to me worth while to get huffy; it's so uncomfortable. He expects too much of people, and when they disappoint him he " "Takes umbradge," Lucy filled in for him.
But the stranger hardly heeded, though his eyes looked curiously from one to the other, slow, shrewd, clairvoyant. "Were you on your way home?" asked Robert, huffy. The stranger lifted his head and looked at him. "Home!" he repeated. "No. The other road " He indicated the direction with his head, and smiled faintly. "Beldover?" inquired Robert. "Yes."
"You looked quite cross when I said I did not think much of the flowers and again when I said I had forgotten your name and again when I told you, you were too young to have a wife: now, you know, in a large family, one has all that sort of nonsense knocked out of one." "Has one?" "Nobody would mind whether one were huffy or not," continue I; "they would only laugh at one."
But in spite of all impediments her tall figure moved, with that grace which is the birthright of beauty in any circumstances, out of the door, through the wide hall to the outer entrance, so rapidly that Farnham could hardly keep pace with her. As he opened the door she barely acknowledged his parting salutation, and swept like a huffy goddess down the steps.
She continued to contemplate him. Her eyes were strange, baffling, smouldering, yellow-brown, shifting, yet not shifty: eyes with a history. Her laugh proclaimed both effrontery and uneasiness. "Don't get huffy," she said. "The kid's sick that's on the level, is it? You didn't come 'round to see me?" The insinuation was in her voice as well as in her words.
It don't do for us to find too much fault with the religion of other nations, Miss Meechim, specially them that teaches the highest morality, self-control and self-sacrifice." Miss Meechim was huffy, but Arvilly drove the arrer home. "Gamblin' is prohibted here; you wouldn't be allowed gamble for bed-quilts and afghans at church socials, Miss Meechim." Miss Meechim wouldn't say a word.
He was now drawing to the finale, and began to sing, "The cook of the huffy got drank, Fell down the fore-scuttle, and Broke his gin bottle." Here his head fell back, he tumbled off his chair, and lay motionless on the carpet.
It beats all how sometimes when you are doin' your very best for your pardners, they don't like it. He acted huffy. But at last it wuz settled, Tirzah Ann's cottage wuz to be begun the minute they left, it wuz to be kep secret from 'em, and we wuz to have a surprize party there, to welcome 'em home. Well, from the very day it wuz settled begun my trials with Josiah Allen about the plan.
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