SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 159 | Next

?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

Then she turned as red as a
rose,--I suppose she suddenly realised how many people were looking at
her; but evidently Max didn't mind them in the least, for he held on
to Nannie's hand, and smiled, and looked at her just as kindly as if
we were at home,--Max likes us all, but Nannie has always been his
favourite.
In the mean time Mrs. Blackwood was trying, with exquisite tact, to make
my father feel less uncomfortable. "It was the most absurd place to put
a bowl of flowers," she asserted cheerfully, "on so slight a table, and
so near the book-shelves. I've always declared that an accident would
occur; now I can say, 'I told you so!' and that's such a satisfaction
to a woman, you know."
She laughed merrily, but the _pater_ still looked troubled. "It was a
great piece of carelessness on my part," he repeated mournfully, for
about the fifth time. "I stood looking over a volume I had taken from
the shelf,--that, I am thankful to know, has not been injured" (with a
hasty glance at the book still tightly clasped in his left hand),--"and
becoming interested, I presume I forgot where I was, and--and leaned too
heavily against the table.


Pages:
147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171