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"Yes, I believe you can," said her brother. "And now, suppose we go down and see Aunt Matilda, and have a talk with her about it." "Just wait until I get my bonnet," said Kate. And she dashed into the house, and then, with a pink calico sun-bonnet on her head, she came down the steps in two jumps, and the brother and sister, together, hurried through the woods to Aunt Matilda's cabin.

He looked at the faded face with the pink rims and trembling lips and had a vision of a brown haired little girl at a desk, and old Si Appleby a teasing boy in the desk opposite. It came over him that some day he would be an old man somewhere telling how he went to school ! And then he asked: "Where's Mark? Up yet?" She shook her head apprehensively, withholdingly.

When about halfway to the mill he met Miss Harlow returning home from her early morning walk. She was dressed with extreme simplicity in a short frock of pink corduroy, and a sailor hat of coarse Dunstable straw, with a pink ribbon round it. Long, soft, white leather gauntlets covered her hands, and she carried in them a little basket of straw, full of bluebells and ferns.

What an enchanting medley of pink parasols and golden sand and chintz tents and white bathing-machines, and blue skies and black minstrels and green waters, and creamy flannels and gauzy dresses! And ciel! what cherubic children! and corpo di Bacco! what pretty women! What frank abandon to the airy influences of the scene! What unconventionality! What unrestraint!

Applehead, stowing a coil of new rope in the chuck-wagon, took off his hat and rubbed his shiny, pink pate in dismay. He was, for the moment, a culprit caught in the act of committing a grave misdemeanor if not an actual felony. He dropped the rope and went forward with dragging feet ashamed, for the first time in his life, to face a friend.

"I understand what you say." "She would not do you honour at the head of your table." "Ah, I understand. You want me to marry some bouncing Amazon, some pink and white giantess of fashion who would frighten the little people into their proprieties." "Oh, Ludovic! you are intending to laugh at me now." "I was never less inclined to laugh in my life never, I can assure you.

The mountains of pink and white ices, and the cakes with sugar castles and flower gardens on the tops of them, and the charming shapes of gold and ruby-coloured jellies. There were wonderful bonbons which even the Mayor's daughter did not have every day; and all sorts of fruits, fresh and candied.

There rose before her a vision of her own room at the old home, the room that she and her sister Betty had shared. It had rose-bordered curtains and rose-festooned wall-paper and pink and white cushions. And it had a dear mother-face peeping in at the door to chide her gently if she sat too late writing those long letters to Dick.

"Providence might have interfered before, and saved the public money," said the little Meissen lady with the pink shoes. "After all, does it matter?" said a Dutch jar of Haarlem. "All the shamming in the world will not make them us!" "One does not like to be vulgarized," said the Lady of Meissen, angrily.

One day Lily wore a white frock with blue ribbons, and Amelia wore one with coral pink. It was a particular day in school; there was company, and tea was served. "I told you I was going to wear blue ribbons," Lily whispered to Amelia. Amelia smiled lovingly back at her. "Yes, I know, but I thought I would wear pink."