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Updated: May 7, 2025
That consideration rendered me still more respectful and I resolved to prove worthy of that name. To talk of love, they say, is to make love. We rarely spoke of it. Every time I happened to touch the subject Madame Pierson led the conversation to some other topic.
They talked on of Battle Field, of the boys and girls they had known how Thiebaud was dead and Mollie Crittenden had married the man who was governor of California; what Howe was not doing, the novels Chamberlayne was writing; the big women's college in Kansas that Grace Wharton was vice-president of. Then of Pierson in the state senate and in a fair way to get to Congress the next year.
He came down here after his daughter, and his brother says he expected to remove him and his family to the North at the same time." "His mission will be a failure in every sense," added Major Pierson, as though he regarded it as a matter of course.
But I'll tell you what we might do; let's scrape off all the butter we can, and then spread it on the toast again when it's ready, before the fire. That's how I've seen Pierson do. I mean that she spread it on before the fire of course she didn't have to scrape it off first." "I should think not," said Tom; "it's only that horrid Mrs. Partridge makes us have to do such things."
He jis’ holla out fu’ somebody bring dat hoss tu de steps, an’ him stan’in’ ’s big uz life, waitin’. I gits tu de hoss fus’, me, an’ leads ’im up, an’ he gits top dat hoss stidy like he ain’t tetch a drap, an’ he fling me big dolla.” “Whar de dolla, Mista Pierson?” enquired Betsy. “De dolla in my pocket, an’ et gwine stay dah.
A very remarkable lover indeed was James. Mrs. Nugent waved her hand across the parterre. Francis Lingen knocked and entered. She could afford that; and presently a couple added themselves, young married people whom she liked for their poverty, hopefulness and unaffected pleasure in each other. She made Lingen acquainted with them, and talked to young Mr. Pierson.
They passed from bed to bed, with exactly the same result, till she was called away, and he sat down by a young soldier with a long, very narrow head and face, and a heavily bandaged shoulder. Touching the bandage reverently, Pierson said: "Well, my dear fellow-still bad?" "Ah!" replied the soldier. "Shrapnel wound: It's cut the flesh properly." "But not the spirit, I can see!"
I'll write to Pierson to-night, when nobody can see, I'll write to her." Tom and Racey saw that I was unhappy, though I only said "never mind," and when they saw that, it made them leave off quarrelling, and they both came to me to kiss me and ask me not to look "so sorry." Just then Sarah came up with our tea-tray. She spoke very kindly to us, and told us she had begged Mrs.
"She looks 'fey," he said, and went out of the room. Lavendie and Noel remained staring at the picture. "Fey? What does that mean, mademoiselle?" "Possessed, or something." And they continued to stare at the picture, till Lavendie said: "I think there is still a little too much light on that ear." The same evening, at bedtime, Pierson called Noel back. "Nollie, I want you to know something.
Pierson, feeling that he was in their way, tried to hide himself behind his paper; when he looked again, the soldier had taken off his tunic and cap and was leaning out of the window. The woman, on the seat's edge, sniffing and wiping her face, met his glance with resentful eyes, then, getting up, she pulled the man's sleeve. "Sit dahn; don't 'ang out o' there."
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