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Updated: June 19, 2025
Ingred had contrived to parry her friend's interested questions, but she felt the time had come when she must be prepared to give some definite answer to those who inquired about their future plans. She managed to catch her mother alone next morning for a quiet chat. "Mumsie, dear," she began. "I've been wanting to ask you this are we going back to Rotherwood after the holidays?" Mrs.
Poor mumsie, she's so nervous that when the grocer's truck had a blow-out down in the drive, she nearly went into hysterics cried and carried on, something about it's being 'the shot. I suppose she meant the one when Mr. Gilbert killed himself. Wasn't that queer? Any loud noise of the sort sets her off that way. She lies and listens, and listens and mutters to herself. It scares me."
"Oh, Mumsie!" and Dolly clasped her hands in ecstatic joy at the prospect. "Oh, Mrs. Fayre!" and Dotty flung her hands above her head, and danced up and down the room where these plans were being talked over.
"Not such a big one." "Well, I've had lots of 'em. We stand side by side, and I'll introduce everybody to you. Of course, Mumsie and Trude will be around, and your mother and your aunt, won't they? Don't try to remember all their names, 'cause you can't, and you can pick them up later." "What a lot you know!" and Dotty looked at Dolly with a thoughtful admiration.
Dermot and Muriel anxiously awaiting him. "Mumsie! Hallo, Mumsie! Here's me. Fwank shooted bad dog," cried Eileen, waving her arms and kicking her bearer violently in her excitement. "Yes, Mumsie, Frank killded the nasty dog that wanted to eat us," added Brian. Wargrave passed the children over the wall into the anxious arms outstretched for them, then vaulted into the garden.
Don't strangle me, or I'll take it all back!" "You can't now! You've said it! Oh, I'm so glad! Can I start to-day?" "Oho!" said Mrs. Maynard; "who was it that said nothing could make her want to go to-day instead of Monday?" Marjorie giggled. "But who could have dreamed you meant this?" she cried, leaving her father and flying to caress her mother. "Oh, Mumsie, won't it be lovely!
Dolly went and sat on the arm of her mother's chair, and, putting an arm around her, whispered, "Oh, Mumsie, please, PLEASE do say yes! Oh, please do!" "Yes to what?" returned Mrs. Fayre, patting her daughter's shoulder. "Mr. Forbes will tell you. Listen." "It's this way, my dear people," began Mr. Forbes.
She would go to New York, become a stenographer, a secretary to a corporation president, a rich woman, free, responsible. The fact of making this revolutionary decision so quickly gave her a feeling of power, of already being a business woman. She galloped up-stairs to the room where her mother was driving the sewing-machine. "Mumsie!" she cried, "we're going to New York!
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