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Updated: June 25, 2025
Now turn in, quick, before you get one, too, and go to sleep, dearies; your father's watching." "Hope," said her sister, after they had lain still a while. "I think that's a beautiful thought! 'Your father's watching. It means two fathers for us, dear, and One of them cannot make a mistake, even in a fog. Good night and pleasant dreams. I'm going to sleep."
Even Bess tried it with less doubt. Inez ate as though she had fasted for a week and never expected to eat again. "Will you have coffee, dearies?" asked Mother Beasley. "Three cents apiece extry," said Inez, hoarsely. "Yes, please," Nan said. "And if there is pie, we will have pie." "Oh, you pie!" croaked Inez, aghast at such recklessness. "I reckon you do 'blong up to Washington Park."
'It seems a pity for her not to be down to greet ye, my dearies, but I do declare I canna make out what ails her. She's poorly, the dear lass; but she 'll no say that she's ill. 'But where is father, Duncan? asked Jasmine in a dazed sort of voice. 'Oh, the maister! He is weel enough, but he is that taken up wi' the work o' Lord Ian Douglas that he canna gie much time to his lonesome child.
She was dressed in a duffel coat or pelisse, which I think country folk call a Joseph; but I followed her at a distance, through fields and owre stiles, till I saw her enter a sma' farm-house. There were some bits o' bairns, apparently hinds' bairns, sitting round a sort o' duck-dub near the stackyard. "'Wha lives there, dearies? says I to them, pointing wi' my finger to the farm-house.
ARÍNA. Oh, wait, I can't attend to you now! My darling child! Girls, my dearies! "Thou art my own, my mother, Who grievest day by day, And at night to God dost pray. Thou who art so downcast, Look but once on her here, Thy daughter who was so dear For the last time the last." LYUBÓV GORDÉYEVNA. For the last time.
Some swain will be buying that, now, and putting it in a lassie's cup o' tea, and she'll be pining away for love of him before the day's out." She put the bottle on the shelf, pasted a label on it, and turned to them with a businesslike air. "Now, dearies, what'll you be wanting? Philtres? Poison? I've a special today, only five shillings a vial. A spell?
There was the happiest sense of good humor and good-will, the far-away echo of laughter, the tinkling of glass and china and silver, the faint delicious aroma, through opening doors, of plentiful good cheer. "Whativer kept you so long, dearies? Run away and don yourselves, and make yourselves gay and fine. Christmas comes but once a year. And don't keep dinner waiting; mind that now!
They were all lengths, sizes, and fashions just what you most wanted after you had been in bed for years and never worn anything but a hospital shirt; and everything was made of cloth o' dreams and embroidered with pearls from the River of Make-Believe. "You can choose whatever you like, dearies," said the queen. And that according to Susan was the best of all.
"Ah, my dearies," interposed Mrs Gilmour, taking advantage of the opportunity to point a moral, "you see what it is not to be idle and having something to do!
Later, when Mrs. Farren ventured into the schoolroom, she found Scott Seagrave drawing injurious pictures of Howker on the black-board, and Geraldine sorting lumps of sugar from the bowl on the breakfast-tray, which had not yet been removed. "Dearies," she began, "it is after nine o'clock and " "No school to-day, Mrs.
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