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Updated: May 13, 2025
She wanted to think and plan alone and in the open air, away from the little house with its odors and its querulous thumping cane upstairs; away from Ellen's grim face and Dan's angry one. He came out almost immediately, followed by a string of little Wilkinsons, clamoring to go along. "Do you mind?" he asked her. "They can trail along behind. The poor kids don't get out much."
Innumerable illustrations might be gathered up, showing that he far surpassed any living advocate. "The trial of the Wilkinsons" might be cited, although it was far from being one of his best efforts. Two young men, only sons, and deeply attached as friends, quarreled, and in the mad excitement of the moment, one of them was killed.
"The Wilkinsons over at Todfoot have had their house broken into now," Mrs. Brown was saying. "All her jewellery gone. They think it's a gang. It's just the villages round here. There seems to be one every day!" William expressed his surprise. "Oh, 'ell!" he ejaculated, with a slightly self-conscious air. Mr. Brown turned round and looked at his son.
Of course tile servants have spread nice stories. And the Wilkinsons' these were the people next door 'look upon us as hardly respectable. Even Mrs. Fentiman said yesterday that she really could not conceive how I came to take that girl into the house. I acknowledged that I must have been crazy.
"Promise me, both of you, that you won't tell Marj how we chased her?" They both swore solemn oaths. After supper, she and Harold strolled over to Wilkinsons' to tell Marjorie the news of the canoe, for Jack had promised to say nothing about it until they came. But they found her singularly unappreciative.
"Bring them along, of course," she said, somewhat resignedly. And with a flash of her old spirit: "I might have brought Jinx, too. Then we'd have had a real procession." They moved down the street, with five little Wilkinsons trailing along behind, and Edith was uncomfortably aware that Joe's eyes were upon her. "You don't look well," he said at last.
Not to be confused with the Wilkinsons of Cumberland; and as I say, old boy, what have you done with my yacht? You see, they've locked me up here in this garden and a yacht would be a sort of occupation for an unmarried man." "I am really horribly sorry," began Turnbull, in the last stage of bated bewilderment and exasperation, "but really "
BATON ROUGE, July 9, 1850. The Wilkinsons were having a small party, it consisted of themselves and Uncle Bagges at which the younger members of the family, home for the holidays, had been just admitted to assist after dinner. Uncle Bagges was a gentleman from whom his affectionate relatives cherished expectations of a testamentary nature.
Philip was a little puzzled when he mentioned this afterwards to Aunt Louisa, and she told him that when she knew the Wilkinsons they had never had anything more than a pony and a dog-cart; Aunt Louisa had heard of the rich uncle, but as he was married and had children before Emily was born she could never have had much hope of inheriting his fortune.
Why didn't they think the Proudfoots and the Wilkinsons and the Wagstaffs, and other local nobody-somebodies, people of importance, and why did they think the mayor a ludicrous upstart, and the adjacent J.P. a sententious old idiot? Far better to have rested content in that state of life to which God had called them. To talk French, or to play Chopin! What did it matter?
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