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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

She seated herself on the extreme edge
of the chair the diamond lady had just vacated, and after taking off her
gloves, and laying them across her lap, she accepted her chocolate and
cake with a deprecating air, as if apologising for the trouble she was
causing. "Oh, thank you, _thank_ you," she said gratefully; "you are
_very_ kind."
The young goddess gave her a haughty stare, and then assumed a bored
expression that I could see made the poor little woman nervous. She
stirred her chocolate violently, and drank half of the cupful at a
draught; then, evidently considering it her duty to make conversation,
she remarked, "Didn't we have an interesting address yesterday at the
Missions House?" She glanced at Miss Devereaux as she spoke.
"Ah--indeed!" answered that young person, with another haughty glare
that almost overcame the little woman. She got very red, and in her
agitation drained her cup, and sat holding it. She looked thoroughly
uncomfortable.
I'm not fond of addressing strangers, but I couldn't stand that sort
of treatment any longer, and got on my feet with the desperate intention
of immediately starting a lively conversation with this particular
stranger, without regard to Miss Devereaux.


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