United States or Sweden ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"You must give that sick woman a ride into the country. The fresh, pure, blossom-sweet air will do her good may, indeed, turn the balance of health in her favor. Don't be afraid of Mrs. McFlimsey." "For shame, doctor! But you are too late in your suggestion. I'm quite ahead of you." "Ah! in what respect?" "That drive into the country is already a settled thing.
The parents insisted their eldest daughter should have a wedding trousseau it was not meet she should set out on so long a voyage, across the ocean of water, and the ocean of married life, in the condition of Miss Flora McFlimsey. So Philip St. Leger took this interval of time for his flying trip to his brother-in-law in Virginia.
"I'll get angry if you play on that string much longer!" exclaimed Mrs. Carleton; "what do I care for Mrs. McFlimsey?" How charmingly the rose tints flushed her cheeks! How the light rippled in her dark sweet eyes, that were leaden a little while before!
"Why, Harriet, are you getting more clothes?" Ruth exclaimed. "You are like 'Miss Flora McFlimsey, of Madison Square, who never had anything good enough to wear." "I am no such thing, Ruth Stuart," returned her cousin, a little peevishly. "You don't understand. Does she, Barbara?
Then they went back to her room. "What are you going to wear to-day, Blue Bonnet?" Annabel asked, her eyes straying toward Blue Bonnet's closet. "I haven't a thing! I've just got to have some new clothes." Blue Bonnet laughed. "Poor little 'Flora McFlimsey," she said. "'Nothing but your new tailored suit and your velvet hat and your silk waist, to say nothing of " "But I'm tired of them all!
Imagine the bewilderment and horror of the prelate, when the miniature Flora McFlimsey drew down the corners of her mouth lugubriously, and sought to accommodate the puffs and dimples of her fat little body to an expression of abject misery, as she replied, "No, indeed, Sir! I haven't got any skeleton!"
The old home of the Madison Square Presbyterian Church was in the block between Twenty-third and Twenty-fourth Streets. Then, on the northeast corner of the latter street stood one of the last surviving residences recalling the days when the Square was the possession of Flora McFlimsey and her kind, the old brown-stone dwelling of Catherine Lorillard Wolfe.
Dombey, Flora McFlimsey and Edmund Sparkler, should each shoulder broomstick or bucket, and plunge pell mell into the reeking filth. This argument proceeds upon the assumption that Christians can purge amusements only by using them in the forms and with the appliances attendant upon the world’s abuse of them. This is assuming altogether too much.
"And what about the chiffon?" "Well, Ella, she telephoned Madame this morning not to hurry with that, because she wasn't going to the dance." "Was she going to wear it?" "Well, no. But she telephoned Madame just the same I don't know why she did," Susan smiled. "But what's the difference?" she ended cheerfully. "Quite a Flora McFlimsey!" said Mrs.
"Well, you'd look better than most even if you did," put in Colonel Crutcher, "but you needn't be coming the Flora McFlimsey on us. Don't we see you running around here in a blue dress all the time? And if that ain't good enough I bet you've got a white muslin somewhere with a blue sash and maybe a blue hair ribbon." Judith laughed.
Word Of The Day