In the hair, too, was a single red rose, caught into place with a
natural grace that it seemed a pity to waste on three spinster aunts and
two dogs, and the same note of color was repeated in another rebellious
blossom at the throat. The young face was plump and oval, and the cheeks
were pink, the brown eyes were wide and sparkling and--Oh, well, the
young man in the pool stopped cataloguing her attractions and simply
summed her up as a stunningly pretty girl. Then he tried once more to
get rid of that maddening mosquito and wished to high Heaven that they
would go!
"When our dear mother died we four girls were all quite young," began
Aunt Matilda, pausing primly to smooth down her skirts, and the young
man in the watery prison gave up in despair. She was starting out like
the old-fashioned story books, which never arrived any place, and never
knew how to get back if they did. "Your Aunt Sarah was eighteen years
old, your Aunt Ann and myself sixteen, and your poor, deluded mother
fourteen. Our father, child, married again within the year, and so you
see our acquaintance with the duplicity of men began at a very early
age. Of course, we refused to live with a stepmother or to allow her to
occupy our own dear mother's house. Left, then, upon our own
responsibilities at so tender a period of our lives, it behooved us to
conduct ourselves with the strictest of propriety, and I am most happy
to say that we came triumphantly through the ordeal.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166