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Updated: May 3, 2025
Barbara was at an age when exactly those things that a certain small group of her contemporaries did, said, and thought, made all her world. She wished to be with these young people all the time; she wished for nothing else, to-day she was heartsick because there was to be a weekend house party to which she was not invited.
That is always a pleasure, though it begins to pall upon the party before the weekend. Everybody wanted to have a hand in that first meal, and so Max fixed it that they could enjoy the privilege to their heart's content.
Her limbs, and they had their way, desired not to rest; her mind, and it deposed her captaincy, would cast no anchor. Mr. Simcox, as the week drew on, suggested a weekend at home. It had occurred to her, very attractively, but she had negatived it. Something most delightful was going to happen and she must be there. She had accepted and she later told herself she did not like to refuse.
There was a parallel in his experience, a weekend arrival at Woodstock when Kenny, farming in a flurry of enthusiasm, had come riding down to meet his guest on a singular quadruped whose area of hide had thickened strangely. Brian called the uncurried quadruped a plush horse.
"I suppose the sooner I tell you, the sooner you'll go. Do you know Bodfish?" I shuddered. "Wilkinson Bodfish? I do." "Have you ever spent a weekend at Bodfish's place in the country?" I shuddered again. "I have." "Well, I'm not spending the weekend at Bodfish's place in the country." "I see you're not. But " "You don't understand.
She was giving a Tea, he said, that afternoon, and he had faithfully promised to be there. But a weekend in North Carolina appealed to him, and afternoon tea well, he explained to me, crossing his legs and beaming at me all over as if he were a whole genial, successful afternoon tea all by himself afternoon tea did not appeal to him. He thought probably he was a Non-Gregarious Person.
On the floor stood a small attache case, and beside it a little heap of miscellaneous articles such as a woman would take away with her for a weekend, a crepe-de-chine nightdress, a dainty pair of bedroom slippers and some silver-mounted toilet fittings. From these things Matthews judged that this had been Nur-el-Din's bedroom.
There had been another weekend at the dunes, when this youth had nimbly ranged the forest and the beach to find wood for the great open fireplace; and he had come, now, at the end of the season, to make due acknowledgments for privileges enjoyed.
A week ago we went to an auction room where there was a big collection of genuine old stuff, much finer than appears in the curio shops, and this weekend there is another big sale by a Marquis. However, it is said they keep the best things and unload on the nouveau riche; not but what a lot of it is mighty good as it is. My other experience that I have not written about is seeing Judo.
Sunny Honolulu . . . Joe was relieved to be back. He wrote to Kate, enclosing her inheritance check and explaining his father's stipulation concerning the money. "No problem," she e-mailed back, "we're out every weekend looking at houses." Joe paid his Montpelier tuition and put some money in the bank, but he couldn't resist buying 4000 shares of a company that he'd been following on the Internet.
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