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In fact, the men were mostly afraid of her; and it has been observed of girls of this kind that the men who are not afraid of them are such as they would do well to be afraid of. Whether that was quite the case with Bessie Lynde or not, it was certain that she who was always the cleverest girl in the room, and if not the prettiest, then the most effective, had not the best men about her.
I'll make it up in the very latest fashion," said Mrs. Lynde. To herself she added when Matthew had gone: "It'll be a real satisfaction to see that poor child wearing something decent for once. The way Marilla dresses her is positively ridiculous, that's what, and I've ached to tell her so plainly a dozen times.
Lynde had repeated, irritably, "stay if you want to. I'll not be trying to over-persuade you depend on that." They quarreled still further over this matter, and, though they eventually made up, both sensed the drift toward an ultimately unsatisfactory conclusion.
At the top of the ascent the man halted a moment to take breath, and then disappeared behind the ridge. He was on the down grade now, and of course gaining at each stride on his pursuer, who was still toiling upward. Lynde did not slacken his pace, however; he had got what runners call their second wind.
The shade of her dress made her hair and eyes and complexion wonderful. Lynde was proud to have her look like that for Flemming, though he was himself affected by a queer impression that this queenly young person was not the simple, lovely girl he had known all along.
She turned and walked back with him but she made no reference to Four Winds or its inhabitants. If Alan had troubled himself to look, he would have seen a malicious glow in her baleful brown eyes. But the only eyes which had any meaning for him just then were the grey ones of Lynde Oliver. During Alan's next three visits to Four Winds he saw nothing of Lynde, either in the house or out of it.
He took three pieces of pie. If I did that Mrs. Lynde would call me piggy. And he et fast and took big bites and Marilla is always telling me not to do that. Why can ministers do what boys can't? I want to know. "I haven't any more news. Here are six kisses. xxxxxx. Dora sends one. Heres hers. x. "Your loving friend DAVID KEITH" "P.S. Anne, who was the devils father? I want to know."
A young fellow came to claim her for a dance, and Westover had not the face to leave Miss Lynde, all the less because she told him he must not think of staying. He stayed till the dance was over, and Bessie came back to him. "What time is it, Mr. Westover? I see my aunt beginning to nod on her perch." Westover looked at his watch. "It's ten minutes past two." "How early!" sighed the girl.
Sidney Johnston had all the sterling qualities of Lee, and even a rarer magnetism of character. Honor placed one fadeless wreath upon his tomb. He would not play the ignoble part of a Twiggs or a Lynde. He offered a stainless sword to the Bonnie Blue Flag. The gravity of his farewell, the purity of his private character, the affection of his personal friends, are tributes to the great soldier.
But a tall, ruddy-haired girl, dressed in pale green organdy Anne Shirley from Avonlea told Marilla Cuthbert and Rachel Lynde as a joke the next morning how a chubby little woman in a bright pink fascinator had clutched her by the arm, and gasped out: "Carey Penhallow can't take you he says you're to look out for someone else," and was gone before she could answer or turn around.
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