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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"


Now if anybody was teasing just then Phil was in it, and I started to
tell her so; but Phil interrupted: "One more county to be heard from,"
he declared, "and that's you, most noble Felix. Are you, like Nora,
hankering after the unattainable in the shape of daily receptions?"
"Can't say that I'm devoured with a desire that way," I confessed with a
grin. "I wouldn't go over this afternoon's experience for a farm! As
they say in the novels, my feelings can be better imagined than
described when I walked into the Blackwoods' library and saw the _pater_
standing in the midst of the shattered vase _a la_ Marius in the ruins
of Carthage. Had I but owned a genii, we'd have been whisked out of that
room and home in about two seconds. No, on calm reflection, I forswear
receptions for the future."
"Hullo!" exclaimed Phil, suddenly, "I say,--come to think of it,--how
d'you suppose the _Blackwoods_ enjoyed the orgy?"
We looked at each other. "_I_ said I enjoyed myself," asserted Nora,
with a superior and very virtuous air. "It's the least one can do when
people go to the trouble and expense of entertaining one."
Nannie sat up and looked contrite.


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