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Updated: May 14, 2025


He hastily brought chairs, and placed them near Mrs. Hepburn, who seized her spectacles, which were on a silk workbag beside her, scanned us through them, and exclaimed, "Ah ha! what is this?" "Is it something in me, ma'am?" said Desmond, putting his head before my face so that it was hid from her. "Something in both of you; thief! thief!"

Claude ran after them with Enid's flowered workbag and thrust them into it as he came upon one after another, fluttering in the weeds. When he returned, Enid had folded her needle-case and was putting on her hat. "Thank you," she said with a smile. "Did you find everything?" "I think so." He hurried toward the car to hide his guilty face.

At the mention of the workbag, Phronsie had gently pulled Polly's arm. But Polly was too deep in thought to notice, and she wrinkled her brows, and bent her head again in her hands. What could it possibly be that Clem was to make? "Well, I think it is a sachet bag, then," she said at last. "An old sachet bag, when all the girls are making oceans of 'em!

Not satisfied with what she had done, and noticing that his shoes were old and worn, she took out of her beaded workbag a pair of splendidly worked moccasins, and put them on his feet.

Let it be confessed at once. The lost scissors were all the time quietly resting at the bottom of Miss Wilkeson's workbag, and she knew it. The prevalent frailty of human nature must be her excuse. She had-obtained not only an introduction to Wesley Tiffles, but a pair of scissors which must be returned to him, and were therefore a bond of friendship.

It is astonishing how much effect a woman of taste can produce with a pretty chair or two full of fancy and colour, a table clothed with a few books, some family miniatures, a workbag of rich material, and some toys that we never desert. "I have not much to work with," said Mrs. Ferrars, with a sigh, "but I think the colouring is pretty."

That shaded contour cross-cutting the front of Constance." Elizabeth, who had opened her workbag, looked up with sudden interest. "Was there an accident?" she asked. "Something desperate and thrilling?" "It seemed so to me," he said. Then Mrs. Weatherbee rose and came over to the port rail. "I see," she said, and shaded her eyes with her hand.

She turned away, and began fidgeting with Lucy's workbag. Then a small voice and a preparatory turmoil were heard outside. 'Auntie Dora! Auntie Dora! cried Sandy, rushing in with a hop, skip, and a jump, and flourishing a picture-book, 'look at zese pickers! Dat's a buffalo most es tror nary animal, the buffalo! 'Come here, rascal! called his father, and the child ran up to him.

I had soon reason to decide that if I had breakfast at six, luncheon would not be unacceptable at half-past ten, at about which time I lost sight of the scenery and confined my attention to a worsted workbag in which Nurse Bundle had a store of most acceptable buns.

And drop us at Mr. Buckle's, please, the saddler." "High Street, isn't it?" said the fat coachman, looking down on Mrs. Bundle exactly as a parrot looks down from his perch. "To be sure; only three doors below the 'Crown." With which Mrs. Bundle gathered up her skirts, and her worsted workbag, and clambered into the coach. There were two other "insides."

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