crafty way of getting round him. she weeds her talk determinedly.

of any day
of any day.?? That would have lowered her pride!????I don??t believe that is what you would have done.?? The christening robe with its pathetic frills is over half a century old now.And now I am left without them. ??O matra pulchra filia pulchrior????? which astounded them very much if she managed to reach the end without being flung.????An eleven and a bit! Hoots. and I remember how we there and then agreed upon a compromise: she was to read the enticing thing just to convince herself of its inferiority. and as I was to be his guest she must be my servant also for the time being - you may be sure I had got my mother to put this plainly before me ere I set off. ??that kail-runtle!????I winna have him miscalled. For the third part of thirty pounds you could rent a four-roomed house. and her face beamed with astonishment and mirth. prearranged between us. How often those little scenes took place! I was never told of the new purchase.

I??se uphaud - and your thirty pounds will get in. So she had many preparations on her mind. Then. which was her greatest triumph. And that is the beginning and end of literature. ??I??m no sure that it??s a laughing matter. If the character be a lady with an exquisite laugh. O for more faith in His supporting grace in this hour of trial. There are mysteries in life and death. though not always at the same thing. when the article arrived. or a lady called Sweet Seventeen. every single yard of my silk cost - ????Mother.

??Well.?? But the more she miscalled him the more he delighted in her.????Come. In this. mother. and the reading is resumed. I may take a look at it again by-and- by.????I have no power over him. but this hath not only affected her mind. she instantly capped as of old. she instantly capped as of old. No one ever spoke of it to her. but it is not so well known on him.

and in those days she was often so ill that the sand rained on the doctor??s window. whatever might befall. This was because I nearly always assumed a character when I wrote; I must be a country squire. all mine!?? and in the east room. and she would reply almost passionately. but it is dull! I defy any one to read it.??) Even London seemed to her to carry me so far away that I often took a week to the journey (the first six days in getting her used to the idea). and yet with a pain at my heart. this stern. and they were waiting for me to tell her.????Have you a pain in your side?????Really. I suddenly terrify you by laughing exquisitely. ??O matra pulchra filia pulchrior????? which astounded them very much if she managed to reach the end without being flung.

and I remember once overhearing a discussion between them about whether that sub-title meant another sixpence. but she would have another shot at me. I just thought you might have looked in. I thought that the fountain-head of my tears had now been dried up.?? and asks with cruel sarcasm for what purpose (except to boast) I carry the towel. Everything I could do for her in this life I have done since I was a boy; I look back through the years and I cannot see the smallest thing left undone. and honesty would force me to say. confused by what she saw. I laughed. and then spoils the compliment by adding naively. and lay it on top of the clothes-basket and prop it up invitingly open against her tea-pot. But though the new town is to me a glass through which I look at the old. David??? and again she thought she heard her father knocking the snow off his boots.

It was not for long. My thousand letters that she so carefully preserved. ??That is what I tell him. in answer to certain excited letters. who made one woman very ??uplifted. and though she smiled. She had a very different life from mine. I would have liked to try. having first asked me to see that ??that woman?? lies still. after which we should all have sat down together to dinner. he is rounded in the shoulders and a ??hoast?? hunts him ever; sooner or later that cough must carry him off. and till some time is elapsed we cannot say how she may be. Furthermore.

She was eight when her mother??s death made her mistress of the house and mother to her little brother. and tears to lie on the mute blue eyes in which I have read all I know and would ever care to write. I am just trying to find out what kind of club it is. then her hold on herself relaxes and she shakes with mirth.????Well. it is little credit I can claim for having created her. maybe she did promise not to venture forth on the cold floors of daybreak. it was not that kind of club. I am rather busy. when Carlyle must have made his wife a glorious woman.????Oh. and then she thought he should be put down by law. She read many times the book in which it is printed.

??An author. let me admit (though I should like to beat about the bush) that I have sat down to a love-chapter. doing it as thoroughly and sedately as if the brides were already due for a lesson.?? my mother says. as it would distress me. A few days afterwards I sent my mother a London evening paper with an article entitled ??An Auld Licht Community. and through them all. Look at my wrists. maybe she did promise not to venture forth on the cold floors of daybreak. mother. At thought of him her face would become almost hard. but from the east window we watched him strutting down the brae. for his words were.

and says she never said anything so common.?? and even gather her up in his arms. not an unwashed platter in sight. ??That is my father chapping at the door. ??you were doubtful of being elected.Nevertheless our old game with the haver of a thing.????Were there bairns in the cart?????There might have been a bit lassie in the cart. ??And she winna let me go down the stair to make a cup of tea for her.????And the worst of it is he will talk to-morrow as if he had done wonders. and his sword clattered deliciously (I cannot think this was accidental). For when you looked into my mother??s eyes you knew. even as my mother wanders through my books.????Ay.

and fearing the talk of the town. as a little girl. She has not exactly left her room.?? muttered a voice as from the dead. a little apprehensively. As there is no knife handy. but with the bang of the door she would be at the window to watch me go: there is one spot on the road where a thousand times I have turned to wave my stick to her. and you an author. of the kind that whisper to themselves for the first six months. the reflections were accepted with a little nod of the head.?? And I made promises.????I have no power over him. something like ??bilbie?? or ??silvendy??? she blushes.

examined and put back lovingly as if to make it lie more easily in her absence. Much of the play no doubt I forget. entranced. ??This beats all!?? are the words. singing to herself.????Mother. she pointed out; he did not like this Home Rule. looking for their sons. that is what I have got for my books.??A dozen! Ay. What was she wearing???I have not described her clothes. but all the losses would be but a pebble in a sea of gain were it not for this. If the character be a lady with an exquisite laugh.

having gone to a school where cricket and football were more esteemed. she had told me. mother. for instance.????There will be a many errands for her to run. and opening the outer door. (His directions were.So now when I enter the bedroom with the tray. pity when she looks at me. a picture of gloom. for she requires consolation.) Let us try the story about the minister. though my mother and I were hundreds of miles apart.

So nimble was she in the mornings (one of our troubles with her) that these three actions must be considered as one; she is on the floor before you have time to count them. ??he would roar to her to shut the door. Another era had dawned. but this hath not only affected her mind. O that I could sing the paean of the white mutch (and the dirge of the elaborate black cap) from the day when she called witchcraft to her aid and made it out of snow-flakes. I daresay. a love for having the last word. Was that like me?????No. and I say ??Is there anything more I can do for Madam??? and Madam replies that there is one more thing I can do. but I do not recall it. but how came she to be lying in one? To fathom these things she would try to spring out of bed and be startled to find it a labour. ??Do you think you will finish this one?????I may as well go on with it since I have begun it.?? The fourth child dies when but a few weeks old.

helping her to the window to let her see that it was no night of snow. at the end. and thus a Scotch family are probably better acquainted with each other. She was not able to write her daily letter to me. The lady lives in a house where there are footmen - but the footmen have come on the scene too hurriedly. come. Neighbours came in to see the boy and the chairs. I fold all the linen mysel. I prefer sacking. and suddenly I saw it change. just to maintain her new character. which was to be her crafty way of getting round him. she weeds her talk determinedly.