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Updated: June 24, 2025
But George was busy in the directors' room, and, after waiting a few moments in conversation with Henry Small, the bookkeeper, I gave it up and walked home, across the fields this time; I had no desire to meet more automobilists. Dorinda had finished dusting the dining room and was busy upstairs. I could hear the swish-swish of her broom overhead.
Venables, in an angry tone, "how could you be so thoughtless as to pluck a flower, which you have seen me take so much care to rear, in order to have taken seed from it?" Poor Dorinda was in such a fright, that she could only beg her papa not to be angry. Mr.
Then came the first breakdown in Mother's health which necessitated her removal to the country. Luther and Dorinda Rogers were distant relatives of our friend, the lawyer. They owned the little house by the shore at Denboro and the lawyer had visited them occasionally on shooting and fishing trips.
Lute was so full of excitement and curiosity that he almost forgot to eat, a miracle of itself and made greater by the fact that he did not ask a single question until his wife asked one first. Then he asked three in succession. Dorinda, who was quite as curious as he but would not have shown it for the world, stopped him at the beginning of the fourth.
"Just a caller on a business matter," I answered, hurriedly. "I'll be out at once, Dorinda." "But who is it, Roscoe?" "It's Mr. Colton, Mother. He has probably come to " "Dorinda," Mother interrupted me, "ask Mr. Colton to come in here." "But, Mother " "Ask him to come in here, Dorinda. I should like to meet him." Dorinda hesitated, but when Mother spoke in that tone none of us hesitated long.
In general, two types of love may be traced in the Italian pastoral, namely the honest human desire of such characters as Mirtillo and Amarillis, Dorinda, Aminta, and the more or less close approach to mere sensuality found in Corisca and the satyrs.
Leicester had been nine and Jean seven when Dorinda went away; now they were respectively fourteen and twelve. At first they were a little shy with this big, practically brand-new sister, but this soon wore off. Nobody could be shy long with Dorinda; nobody could help liking her.
If you left it to the hens would THEY clean their house? I guess not! So, I say what's the use of cruelizin' 'em by makin' 'em live clean when they don't want to? "Wait a minute," I interrupted. "Lute, you're wasting your breath. It is Dorinda you should explain all this to, not to me. And you're wasting my time. I want you to take that envelope to Mr. Carver; and I want you to go now."
Presently Uncle Eugene came in, a tall, black-eyed old man, with a fine head of silver hair that should have framed a ruddy, benevolent face, instead of Uncle Eugene's hard-lipped, bushy-browed countenance. Dorinda stood up, dusky and crimson, with brave, glowing eyes. Uncle Eugene looked at her sharply. "Who are you?" he said bluntly. But Dorinda remained standing.
Venables was so delighted with the generosity of his children, that he instantly forgave the accident, and tenderly kissed them both, being happy to see them have such an affection for each other. He told them, that he loved them equally alike, and that they should both go with him. Alfred and Dorinda kissed each other, and leaped about for joy.
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