Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 10, 2025
She was sent into the world to grow flowers and look after stray dogs and be robbed by hoboes; she has been nearly seventy years at it and she doesn't know she has ever been robbed. She's not a fool by any manner of means, and she rules the servants at Vernons in the good old patriarchal way, but she's lost where money is concerned.
"Extraordinary, isn't it?" said Pinckney, tapping the ash off his cigarette. "All the same, you need not be worried at the impropriety of the business; there's none, nothing improper could live in the same house with my aunt, Maria Pinckney. Vernons belongs to her though I live there." "Vernons," put in the other. "What's that?" "It's the name of our house in Charleston.
Vernons and the city she loved, Juliet, Miss Pinckney, the past and the present, she was going to lose them all, they were all in some miraculous way part of the man she loved, her love of them was part of her love for him. She could no longer stay in Charleston; she must go where? She could think of nowhere to go but Ireland. To stay here would be absolutely impossible.
They did not take a direct line in the direction of Vernons, and so presently found themselves in front of St. Michael's. The gate of the cemetery was open and they wandered in. The place was deserted, save by the birds, and the air perfumed by all manner of Southern growing things.
As she hurried home she saw all manner of trouble, things happening to Richard Pinckney, and all brought about through herself. Amidst all these fancies she saw one fact: He must be warned. She found Miss Pinckney in the linen room. The linen room at Vernons was a treasure house beyond a man's description, perhaps even beyond his true appreciation.
The man knew what he was doing who left Miss Pinckney a life interest in Vernons, it was that interest that kept Vernons alive. She was exercising it on the critical examination of some sheets when Phyl came into the room, now, with the wool she had purchased and the tale she had to tell.
Tea making, and the making of tea was a solemn rite at Vernons, absorbed her whole attention, but Pinckney noticed this morning that the hand, that old, perfect, delicately shaped hand, trembled ever so slightly as it measured the tea from the tortoise-shell covered tea caddy, and that the thin lips, lips whose thinness seemed only the result of the kisses of Time, were moving as though debating some question unheard.
In the case of the Vernons there was obviously no alternative, for the third-floor landing window possessed qualifications far in excess of any other, but with the Garnetts two rival factions fought a wordy combat in favour of the boys' room and the little eerie inhabited by Lavender, each of which occupied equally good sites. "Stick to it!
Then: "I go off to Charleston when I feel like that once in a fortnight or so Where do you live in Charleston?" "I live with Miss Pinckney I thought you knew." "You didn't say that. You only said you came with her." "Well, I live with her at Vernons. I'm Irish, y' know. My my father died in Charleston, and I came from Ireland to live with Miss Pinckney. Mr. Richard Pinckney is my guardian."
They meant to make a little pun on their own name like the pun of the herald who gave "Ver non semper viret" to the Vernons for a motto; associating themselves thus modestly and shyly with the building they had given, in which they served.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking