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Updated: June 24, 2025
Mary Smith went to them, and made a visit that could not be called a success in any way. She was painfully conscious of the difference between her clothes and the Ethels' and Dorothy's and Della's, though why theirs seemed more desirable she could not tell, since her own were far more elaborate.
He said nothing about what had occurred, to his wife, but, stern and silent, took his seat in the breakfast-room, waiting for the morning meal to be served. "Go to Miss Della's room," said he, to a servant, who entered, "and tell her I wish her to fill her place at table this morning."
Moreover, this "living one day at a time" theory was a particularly pet doctrine of Della's. Was not Della always saying: "But you only have to live one minute at a time, Ruth, and any one can endure anything for one minute at a time!" "Well?" said Mrs. Carew now, tersely. "Yes. Only think what I'd do if I had to live yesterday and to-day and to-morrow all at once," sighed Pollyanna.
Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy. So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her.
"We must watch these boats and see which ones stay close together and which go far apart, and whether any of them are shipwrecked, and which ones seem to have the smoothest voyage." "Della's and mine are sticking together just the way our nuts did," cried Ethel Blue, and she slipped her hand into Della's and gave it a little squeeze.
Had King Solomon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy. So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her.
"Anything for you, Miss Della, anything." Della's only answer was a closer pressure of that young form to her heart. "Now," said Mr. Delancey, approaching them, with Voltaire walking behind them: "now, Minny, up with you, and get yourself out of my sight; and, mark me! you may get your back ready for another scourging unless you give me those papers before to-morrow."
It had been a tiresome ride, and after eating, knowing that there was no occasion for haste in his return to the Circle L except that his mother would wonder over his whereabouts he stretched out in one of the lower bunks the one he had occupied during Della's stay in the cabin. He had not barred the door; and when, some hours later he awoke, he saw half a dozen men in the cabin.
Sam had joined Penrod in the carriage-house, and, with the beginnings of an unnamed terror, the two beheld this grim advance. But they did not stay for its culmination. Without a word to each other they hurriedly tiptoed up the stairs to the gloomy loft, and there they paused, listening. They heard Della's steps upon the carriage-house floor.
Delancey. She bounded like a fawn through the shadowy passages to Della's apartment, and repeated her mother's answer. "I told you so, Minny!" "I never could have believed it, Miss!" With a changing cheek, but firm, resolute step, Della descended to the drawing-room, and gracefully received her visitor, who looked no less surprised than pleased to see her enter alone.
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