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Updated: June 6, 2025
Poor Racey stood staring in fear and bewilderment his blue eyes quite ready to cry too, once he understood what it was all about. He gave a little tug to mother's dress at last. "Muzzie, what's the matter?" he said. Mother let go her hold of Tom and turned to Racey. "Poor little boy," she said, "he is quite frightened. Audrey, I thought you would have understood I would tell the boys myself."
"Where has father gone, Muzzie?" she said in English, and then rapidly added in Samoan, "Ua alu ia i moana?" "Yes, Loisé. He has gone upon the sea, but will soon return. Where is Mâlu?" From a long experience of life in the Pacific Islands, the writer is thoroughly imbued with and endorses that belief.
"Fresh as paint, T. S.," said her stepfather when she came down. "My dear, what an adorable frock," said her mother. "You never got that in Italy!" "But I did, Muzzie!" Honor was penitently glad of the sign of fellowship. "There's a really lovely little shop in the Via Tournabouni. Wait till my big trunk comes and you see what I found for you there! Oh, here's Mrs. Van Meter!"
"You have, Honor! You have! You've never been a comfort to me not since you were a tiny child. And even then you were tomboyish and rough and queer." "I know, Muzzie." "I never heard of anything so brazen in all my life running after him to Mexico to visit people you never laid eyes on in all your days, utter strangers to you " "Jimsy's aunt and uncle, Muzzie."
"Honestly, Muzzie, you needn't. If you do, it's because you let yourself. You must know that I'll be safe with these people." "Your bodily safety isn't all," her mother, driven from that corner, veered swiftly. "The thing itself is the worst. The idea of it when I think after all that was in the paper, and every one talking about it and pitying you pitying you, Honor!"
In the first place, they say it's really dangerous, it seeps into the brain and affects your mind, and in the second place it gives your face a hard look, always, and besides, I don't approve of it. But this thing Madame uses for me is perfectly harmless, Honor." "It's perfectly charming, Muzzie," said her daughter, giving her a hearty hug. It was a good world this morning.
Her fine placidity was lighted now with an inner flame, but she was very quiet about her happiness; she was not very articulate in her joy. "Mother cannot let you go about unchaperoned with Jimsy, Honor. People would very soon suspect " "I don't think they would, Muzzie," said Honor, calmly. "None of the other mothers are so particular, you know. Most of the girls go on walks and rides alone.
"I daresay she'll be looking for war whoops and tomahawks. And if it comes to that, we can furnish the former, especially Sunday night." "Muzzie, did you meet the boy?" Honor wanted to know. "Yes. He came in for tea with us. A beautifully mannered boy. Very much at ease. We must have him here, Honor." "Yes, Jimsy's already asked him for Sunday night, Muzzie. Jimsy likes him." "Well, he may.
Honestly, Muzzie, I don't think I could stand it." She was a large, substantial young creature with a broad brow and hearty coloring and candid eyes. Her stepfather was sure she would never have her mother's beauty, but he was almost equally sure that she would never need it. He studied her closely and her actions and reactions intrigued him.
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