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Updated: July 2, 2025
So long as one can think well, spelling is altogether secondary." "Thank you; I will try," she said, and left the room. Next day, she brought me an old ballad, written tolerably, but in a school-girl's hand. She had copied the antique spelling, letter for letter.
Latimer to Iola, as she entered. "My ride in the park was so refreshing! I enjoyed it so much! The day was so lovely, the air delicious, the birds sang so sweetly, and the sunset was so magnificent." "I am glad of it. Why, Iola, your home is so happy your heart should be as light as a school-girl's." "Doctor," she replied, "I must be prematurely old.
Certainly he liked to hear her talk; and he knew that she talked far less than usual, when they were alone; but he argued with himself that Wych Hazel was growing older, was seriously engaging herself in study, after other than a school-girl's fashion; and that all this winter's development was but the sweet maturing of the fruit which in growing mature was losing somewhat of its liveliness of flavour.
Back again they came into the city of palaces, which they had learned to love, and alighting near the Duomo sought out a pasticceria in a street hard by, and ate a genuine school-girl's meal. "It has been the pleasantest day of my life here!" said Lettice as they reached home in the evening. "I have not had a cloud upon my conscience." "And it has made the old woman young," said Mrs.
"What have you got there, Miss Portman?" said Lady Delacour, taking from Belinda's hand one of the letters which she had begged her to look over: "something wondrous pathetic, I should guess, by your countenance. 'Helena Delacour. Oh! read it to yourself, my dear a school-girl's letter is a thing I abominate I make it a rule never to read Helena's epistles."
And after a time she was calm again, and went to her bureau drawer and took from a hiding place a little piece of paper, yellow with age. Upon it was pinned a four-leaved clover, dry and yellow also. She looked long at this foolish memento. Under the clover leaf was written in a school-girl's hand "Philip, June, 186-." Squire Montague thought very well of Philip's proposal.
At the bottom of the letter she even had placed her signature, learned by heart, but trembling like a school-girl's scribble: "Widow Moan." "Widow Moan!" With a quick spontaneous movement he carried the paper to his lips and kissed the poor name, as a sacred relic. For this letter arrived at a critical moment of his life; to-morrow at dawn, he was to set out for the battlefield.
She was affected by his grave voice, soft and sad, more than by his look, and, with a school-girl's simplicity, she asked herself, if a heart could not beat beneath that black robe. The visit of Marcel filled her with a strange trouble, and she hesitated a long time before showing herself to him.
"Tut, tut, tut, my charming cousin, that was mere child's play a school-girl's romantic whim. Do not dream that your guardian will ever permit you to throw yourself away upon that low-bred fellow." "Mr. Le Noir, if you permit yourself to address me in this manner, I shall feel compelled to retire.
And after a time she was calm again, and went to her bureau drawer and took from a hiding place a little piece of paper, yellow with age. Upon it was pinned a four-leaved clover, dry and yellow also. She looked long at this foolish memento. Under the clover leaf was written in a school-girl's hand "Philip, June, 186-." Squire Montague thought very well of Philip's proposal.
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