Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 14, 2025
My own boy will be going there soon." "Well, there's no place like Harvard," said Jeff. "I'm in my Sophomore year now." "Oh, a Sophomore! Fancy!" cried Mrs. Vostrand, as if nothing could give her more pleasure. "My son is going to prepare at St. Mark's. Did you prepare there?" "No, I prepared at Lovewell Academy, over here." Jeff nodded in a southerly direction. "Oh, indeed!" said Mrs.
Jeff laughed, with a shake of the head, and Whitwell continued, "Why, it was like this," and he possessed the ladies of a fact which they professed to find extremely interesting. At the end of their polite expressions he asked Jeff again: "What did you say the name was?" "Aquitaine," said Jeff, briefly. "Why, we came on the Aquitaine!" said Mrs. Vostrand, with a smile for Jeff.
Vostrand's educational sojourn in Europe; she laughed and said she knew the type, and the situation was one of the most obvious phases of the American marriage. He protested in vain that Mrs. Vostrand was not the type; she laughed again, and said, Oh, types were never typical.
"I felt bound to send him my card," said Mrs. Vostrand, while Jeff was following his up in the elevator. "He was so very kind to us the day we arrived at Zion's Head; and I didn't know but he might be feeling a little sensitive about coming over second-cabin in our ship; and " "How like you, Mrs.
Then, as if it would be modester in the proprietor of the view to leave them to their flattering raptures in it, he moved away and stood talking a moment with Cynthia Whitwell near the door of the serving-room. He talked gayly, with many tosses of the head and turns about, while she listened with a vague smile, motionlessly. "She's very pretty," said Miss Vostrand to her mother. "Yes.
Vostrand had the same habit of sulking and kicking at people's shins, Westover could partly understand why Mrs. Vostrand had come to Europe for the education of her children. It all came vividly back to him, while he went about looking for Mrs. Vostrand and her daughter on the verandas and in the parlors.
It was only their backs that Westover could see, and he could not, of course, make out a syllable of what was effectively their silence; but all the same he began to feel as if he were peeping and eavesdropping. Mrs. Vostrand seemed not to share his feeling, and there was no reason why he should have it if she had not.
"He's rather old for a Sophomore, I believe. He's twenty-two." "And Genevieve is twenty. Mr. Westover, may I trust you with something?" "With everything, I hope, Mrs. Vostrand." "It's about Genevieve. Her father is so opposed to her making a foreign marriage. It seems to be his one great dread.
I don't know that she cared anything for him, though he was everything that I could have wished: handsome, brilliant, accomplished, good family; everything but rich, and that was what Mr. Vostrand objected to; or, rather, he objected to putting up, as he called it, the sum that Captain Grassi would have had to deposit with the government before he was allowed to marry.
"The tea had rum in it." "Well, perhaps it will have rum in it here, if you're very good." "I will try my best, on condition that you'll make any and every possible use of me. Mrs. Vostrand, I can't tell you how very glad I am you're going to stay," said the painter, with a fervor that made her impulsively put out her hand to him.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking