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Updated: June 4, 2025
"I hope they always see that you wear gloves," she said in a moment. "Little girls usually dislike them." "I used to dislike them, but I like them now," the child made answer. "Very good, I'll make you a present of a dozen." "I thank you very much. What colours will they be?" Pansy demanded with interest. Madame Merle meditated. "Useful colours." "But very pretty?"
Pansy had known the convent in her childhood and had found a happy home there; she was fond of the good sisters, who were very fond of her, and there was therefore for the moment no definite hardship in her lot. But all the same the girl had taken fright; the impression her father desired to make would evidently be sharp enough.
But Pansy, responding again to the company rather than her guardian's counsel, and as if appealing to them, went on half poutingly: "Yes! I runned away because they teased me! Because they didn't like you and said horrid things. Because they told awful, dreadful lies! Because they said I wasn't no orphan! that my name wasn't Stannard, and that you'd made it all up.
If Pansy had only known what divine dulness, what ambrosial stupidity, often reclines on those Olympian heights called society! As last she rose. Neither had mentioned Dent's name, though each had been thinking of him all the time. Not a word had been spoken to indicate the recognition of a relationship which one of them so desired and the other so dreaded.
But one little cluster of dark, spicy blooms like those I used to gather in that old garden would be more to me than the most splendid pansy created by the florist's art.
The roots that served them instead of bread every day, and which were cooked by placing them for a short time in the hot ashes, they also collected and stored. So when the harvest was all over, Tom told Frank and his sisters that they needn't be afraid to spend their Christmas in this beautiful island. "Oh, but, Tom," said Pansy, "we'll all be home long, long before Christmas, won't we?"
"Yes," answered Kat, with a little start, just realizing the fact. "I think it's very funny," Pansy continued, with a truly puzzled air. "When we was here before, papa always said to me, 'come, Pansy, let's go take Miss Kittie to ride, and now he never does; he goes off all alone by hisself, and takes her." "Is it possible!" said Kat with an air of interest.
She could feel the shadow gliding round outside to the doorway. Her heart throbbed as if it would burst; her fingers grasped feverishly at the latch. Then slowly, silently, the latch was raised; the girl fled to the corner by the stove, and stood there covering her face with her hands. The door opened, closed again, and the latch was pressed down firmly. "Where are you, Pansy, little friend?
Poor Rosier's face assumed an expression of alarm; a suit for the hand of Pansy Osmond was even a more complicated business than his taste for proper transitions had allowed. But the extreme good sense which he concealed under a surface suggesting that of a careful owner's "best set" came to his assistance. "I don't see that I'm bound to consider Mr. Osmond so very much!" he exclaimed.
But flowers had no such sale there as have our flowers here in the north. The pansy and many of our highly prized plants and flowers grew wild in the south. The people there did not seem to care for flowers as we do. I have sold many bouquets for a dime, and very beautiful ones for fifteen and twenty cents, that would sell in the north for fifty to seventy-five cents.
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