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Updated: May 4, 2025
Alec said he was rather proud of seeing the tears in Winnie's eyes, as it made him more than ever think that she did really think something of him, and he would try by hard and steady effort in the coming years to prove himself worthy of her love. Frank, more open and impulsive, when he saw the tears in the eyes of his beloved Rachel, could not restrain his own, and was visibly affected.
Dan had knelt at Brother Bart's side before the altar light, that through all his hard rough young life had been Aunt Winnie's boy's beacon, a beacon that had grown clearer and brighter with his advancing years, until it seemed to rise above earth into the dazzling radiance of the stars.
Added to this is the fact that, for some unaccountable reason, Winnie's eyes were so blue, and Winnie's laugh so funny, and Winnie's hands were so pink and little, that somehow or other Winnie didn't get half the scoldings he deserved. But who is there of us that does, for that matter?
No one could peer into her mind as she sat there, apparently enjoying herself; she was wrapped in a secrecy so deep that no human being could touch even the fringe of what she was thinking about, for Winnie's remarks were only like the chirp of a bird on the window-sill when the window is closed.
Nellie had become so accustomed, however, to the invalid's whims and caprices, that she thought little, if at all, about them, and in the meantime her whole attention was engrossed with Winnie's party. Miss Latimer had bought her a soft white muslin for the occasion, and Miss Deborah was busy converting it into the prettiest party-dress imaginable.
"I say, Gypsy, if you cut off a grasshopper's wings, and frow him in a milk-pan, what would he do?" remarked Winnie, inclining to metaphysics, as was Winnie's custom when he wasn't wanted. Gypsy took several severe stitches, and made no answer. "Gypsy if somebody builded a fire inside of me and made steam, couldn't I draw a train of cars?" "Look here Gyp., when a cat eats up a mouse "
Winnie never visits at Dingle Cottage now," Mrs. Blake interposed unconsciously. "Perhaps, but I hardly think so. Winnie's cheeks were burning, and the great eyes full of a withering contempt. Raising them calmly to her visitor's placid face, and without a trembling of the proud young lips, she answered quietly, "Your surmise was correct, Ada.
"Don't be foolish, child," said her mother, after she had ascertained that her precious babe was sleeping sweetly in its cradle, "Winnie's growing stout and healthy, and it's thankful we should be, instead of fretting for fear there'll be sorrow to come."
Every book I could get upon optical illusions I had read, and I was astonished to find how many instances are on record of illusions of a much more powerful kind than mine. And yet I could not leave Snowdon. The mountain's very breath grew sweeter and sweeter of Winnie's lips.
Like a dream it seemed to the girls to be hurrying away at five o'clock, from an unfinished breakfast, from Mrs. Breynton's gentle good-bye, Tom's valuable patronage and advice, and Winnie's reminder that he was five years old, and that to the candid mind it was perfectly clear that he ought "to go too-o-oo."
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