United States or Slovakia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The lively, chatterbox-one was 'Evangeline' and the quiet one who should have been an Evangeline was what the other one ought to have been, a 'Stefana, suggestive of flashing, dark eyes under a lace mantilla, with ways to match the eyes. So does fate play her little jokes. The baby but what do I know of babies or you know of babies?
For the space of a clock-tick the little celestial appeared to hesitate, as though waiting for her star-steed to come within her hail. Then, floatingly, not walking, it seemed to Miss Theodosia, the mist of blurry white drew nearer. It came near to Miss Theodosia, and it was not the nurse-angel in cap and shining halo. It was Stefana! The child was in her nightgown.
"What about 'Stefana and mothers'?" she prodded gently. A cloud had settled on the child's vivid little face and threatened to overshade the childlier child, as well. "I suppose 'Stefana' is a Spanish person, isn't she?" The name had a definitely foreign sound. "Oh, no'm just a United States. We're all United States. Mother named her; we've all got beautiful names, except poor Elly.
Stefana had folded the dresses painstakingly in separate newspaper bundles and stacked them on Carruther's outstretched arms. They were stacked now on Miss Theodosia's porch. She picked them up and turned with them into the house. "I'll unfold them," she thought, "and shake them out. I must tell her to send them home without folding next time or I can go and get them myself."
Stefana had begun to smile in a placid way while glancing at Pierre, who had approached the window. "Oh, you say that, uncle," she responded; "but you love us well all the same, and more than once you have given me myself some good advice, for which I'm very thankful to you. For instance, there's that affair of Attilio's "
"'She hath starched what she could," he offered tentatively. "Oh, for shame! Something nice and romantic." "But romance is dead hold on, I beg pardon! That is not decided yet; I remember. You shall have your poetry, you and Evangeline. Something after this wise: "'Our most esteemed Stefana, May rough winds never pain her' "Do winds 'pain' people?
She caught Evangeline's sleeve. "What is that man shouting about there, in front of that big tent?" "Oh, I don't know, but it's somethin' splendid. I know it's somethin' splendid! I'll go 'n' see." "I'll go with you. Stefana, stay with the rest of the children. We'll be right back." Miss Theodosia laughed as she and Evangeline went, hand in hand. In a moment they were back for the rest.
She and Stefana succeeded in getting the starch out of the surrounding area and into the bosom of the Terrible Shirt. They got much starch in. Inspiration appeared to come to Miss Theodosia. Even the really awful task of ironing that bosom till it glittered and shone in unwrinkled board-like expanse was at length accomplished.
Should she run out-of-doors while one of them cooled, and lie in wait to catch the little nurse-angel on the wing or perhaps darting thrillingly down to Stefana on a shooting star, breaking all speed limits! This was a night for adventure. The wild ride of a becapped and haloed little celestial in goggles would be an adventure!
I have been there and seen her. Is romance dead is it? Go and look at Stefana!" But she held him back from going. "No, no, I didn't mean it! Not in cold blood I didn't go in cold blood. You will have to take my word for it." "I will take your word." "That romance is not dead?" "That romance is alive. But who would have thought of it's being Stefana!"
Word Of The Day