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But Duncan, starting with a line of five- and ten-cent packages of indigestible sweets, in time made arrangements with a big Pittsburgh confectionery concern to ship him a small consignment of pound and half-pound "fancy" boxes of chocolates and bonbons twice a week. And taffy-pulls and fudge parties lapsed into desuetude.
But to her patients' disgust, the Soeur, who had a pretty wit of her own, promptly frustrated their intentions by counting the dainties. "I count the chocolates. They are good boys, wise boys, honest boys, and I have every confidence in them, but I count the chocolates!" said the Soeur.
And candy not a sight of it for more than that. I don't like the heavy French chocolates, which were all one could get when one could get anything. I shall eat at least half and take the other half back to Gora." "Miss Dwight? She's done good work, I'll bet. Just in her line. Somehow, I don't see you What did you do?"
"Grace, Grace, do wake up!" Betty looked at her sleeping chum in absolute amazement. How could anybody sleep so soundly on this, the day of days, when one should have been awake at six o'clock thinking over the delights in store! Grace had come over the night before to talk over some minor details of the outing, bringing with her a new and, she declared, a specially delicious brand of chocolates.
Then he played up: "You're pretty enough to knock that last out, anyway?" he said. "Am I?" she demanded. "Do you mean you'd like to keep me?" "I've got one week-end left of leave," said Peter. "What about the chocolates?" "Poor boy!" she said. "Well, I'll risk it." And she made up the two pounds.
"Me, madame? No. My poor Mees " "Leave your poor Mees to me." She took a paper bag from the mantelpiece. "Go and eat chocolates." Fixed with a firm and decidedly professional glance, Jeanne stopped sobbing and rose slowly to her feet. "Don't listen outside the door. You must have been listening. Wait till you're rung for. Miss Cynthia will be all right with me. We're going for a walk.
"Don't pour cod liver oil, whatever you do," said Grace, quickly. "I had to take some of the horrid stuff the last cough I had, and I can taste it yet. Where are my chocolates? Oh, thank you, Amy," as the latter passed them over. "Have some. These have maraschino cherries inside." "Leave it to Grace to discover something luxurious in the candy line," observed Mollie.
Frank, however, showed remarkable alacrity in offering himself as substitute. So zealous and obliging a brother was he that he started for the station with half an hour to spare, and whiled away a portion of that time in purchasing a bouquet of flowers and a very ornamental box of chocolates.
At that she makes a noise with her upper lip the way a body does in southern Oregon when he uses a toothpick after a large meal. “No, sir, never did a lick.” Lillian says “did” and not “done.” Practically no encouragement is needed for Lillian to continue. “After my husband died I blew in all the money he left me in two years. Since then I have been packing chocolates.” How long ago was that?
"Well, I want you all to be hypnotized into quietness, long enough to listen to me," spoke Betty, with a charmingly commanding air. Grace Ford, obediently depositing her chocolates on the mantel, save a few which she "sequestered" for use during the talk, had tastefully "draped" herself on a comfortable couch. "And, now to begin at the beginning," announced Betty.
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