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Updated: June 16, 2025
In the P. M. I read them Andersen's "Angel and Child," "The Swineherd," and "Little Ida's Flowers;" and their father read to them from "The Black Aunt." In the evening my husband read to me the "Death of Adam and Eve," by Montgomery, and something of Crabbe's. Tuesday, 22d. Clear, splendid day. The children took their little straw baskets and went to find flowers.
And I've done something you could never, never think of if you tried till next Christmas, I've got some flowers for Mrs. Overtheway, only I did it so stupidly; she will think me a perfect goose, and perhaps be angry," and the tears came into Ida's eyes.
Grinding at history, grammar, and geography did not seem so oppressive a burden when it could be done under the shade of spreading cedars, amid the scent of roses, in an atmosphere of colour and light. Even Ida's labours seemed a little easier when she and her pupils sat in a fast-decaying old summer-house in the rose-garden, with a glimpse of sunlit river flashing athwart the roses.
"It's lucky there's something to make you sober and stiddy," said his aunt. "You are too frivolous." Evening came, but it did not bring Ida. An indefinable sense of apprehension oppressed the minds of all. Martha feared that Ida's mother, finding her so attractive, could not resist the temptation of keeping her.
"A letter, in which I wrote that Ida's mother had been so pleased with the appearance and manners of the child, that she could not determine to part with her." "You don't mean to say that any such letter as that has been written?" said Jack, incredulously. "What? Has it not been received?" inquired Peg. "Nothing like it. When was it written?" "The second day after our arrival," said Peg.
Doesn't she treat you well?" Lois shook her head vaguely. "I can't go back anyway," she moaned. "Ida's got my school. I haven't got anything to do there. Don't you think I can get a school here?" "I am afraid you can't," said Francis. "You see, the schools have all begun now. But you mustn't feel so bad. Don't." He touched her shoulder gently. "Poor little girl!" said he.
Thus while Dermot thought far seldomer of Noreen, whom he acknowledged to himself he liked more than any other woman he had ever met, she, who assured herself every day that she hated and despised him, could not keep him out of her mind. And all the more so as she began to have doubts of the truth of Ida's story.
If the reader's patience has not failed him up to this long-deferred moment, it shall now be rewarded by a few brief, concluding words. Mrs. Mayhew felt considerably aggrieved that she had had so little part in Ida's engagement with the wealthy and aristocratic Mr.
The next day but one Maria and Evelyn started for Amity. Ida did not go to the station with them. She was not up when they started. The curtains in her room were down, and she lay in bed, drawing down the corners of her mouth with resolution when Maria and Evelyn entered to bid her good-bye. Maria said good-bye first, and bent her cheek to Ida's lips; then it was Evelyn's turn.
'And the road is affreux, perfectly frightful, said Mademoiselle. 'I have been inquiring about it. No access except upon mules. A whole day's journey and the hotel! Bah, it is vilain! 'If Ida is bent on going she must go without me, said Mrs. Morton. 'I I have had enough of those horrid beasts. Ida's nonsense will be the death of me.
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