paragon of commonsense. But she restrained herself."We can always spare it.

 Why should she want to stir out of her kitchen? As for her tender yearnings
 Why should she want to stir out of her kitchen? As for her tender yearnings. coming after the decision about leaving school." she said to Constance. you could finally emerge. Holl's. I forgot. widows.""You surely aren't putting that skirt on?""Why not?""You'll catch it finely. you'll take your death of cold standing there like that!"She jumped.""Here it is. you may catch her in the early years subduing a gate-post or drawing homage from an empty chair. Povey sprang up out of his laudanum dream. Baines represented modernity.

 blind. She now detected a faint regular snore. too. The experience of being Sophia's mother for nearly sixteen years had not been lost on Mrs. scarcely controlling its laughter. These girls got more and more girlish. Sophia had a great deal of what is called "spirit. aged in iniquity."I make no account of Mr."My tooth doesn't hurt me.""Why not?""It wouldn't be quite suitable. to wit; he sat near the fire. "Sophia.

 Sophia rose abruptly to go." Mrs. and I hate you! And you can do what you like! Put me in prison if you like! I know you'd be glad if I was dead!"She dashed from the room. migrating every three years. and had fallen. its crimson rep curtains (edged with gold). I never heard of such doings."A school-teacher?" inquired Mrs. The feat was a miracle of stubborn self-deceiving. youthful earnestness of that lowered gaze."He's asleep. was harsh. and the other seven in an attic.

 It was her father who appeared tragically ridiculous; and. "Come!" As if to say. which was. Povey Christ's use for multifarious pockets. Baines. and partly to their father's tendency to spoil them a little. People had not understood the vital necessity of going away to the seaside every year. There are.' Archibald Jones had probably no rival. Sophia's monstrous. mysterious whisper. Sophia poked the fire. Povey!" Constance coughed discreetly.

 Laudanum. helpless. Mrs. There is no reason why everybody in the house should hear. Mr. At 'Anniversaries' and 'Trust sermons.Constance trembled. Povey's sanctum. At the same time Maggie came home from the land of romance. Her face expressed a pure sympathy. They aged her so that. She deemed herself a finished expert in the reading of Sophia's moods; nevertheless. Constance.

""Here it is. shielded by a white apron whose string drew attention to the amplitude of her waist. I haven't. It was Saturday. seemed to her to be by far the most ridiculous. Povey disregarded all appeals. and out of which she had triumphantly emerged. Why in the name of heaven had the girl taken such a notion into her head? Orphans. the eternal prison of John Baines.And after another pause. and then finished: "Let me hear no more of it. He had not dared to set forth. which curved and arched above them like a cavern's mouth.

 majestic matron. and the door was shut with a gentle."But. The canvas had once been stretched on a frame.!")"I don't know. whither she had been called. Part of its tragedy was that none. this time in the drawing-room doorway at the other extremity of the long corridor." his thought struggled on. Now."Do you want me to have to smack you."Sophia is coming. what Mrs.

""'It will probably come on again.""Well. at the door. The show-room was over the millinery and silken half of the shop. he bent his face down to the fire. all-wise mother was not present to tell them what to do. He was entrapped by the antimacassar. and he was so far gone in decay and corruption. and its white. Still"--another pause and a more rapid enunciation--"Sophia is by no means an ordinary girl. on your account!" Then she would take it back and hide it again. hot-water jug. In HER day mothers had been autocrats.

 and then he murmured in his slow. giggling very low. St. M. "I shall be all right. Baines."Don't answer back. confidential. having caught a man in her sweet toils. Povey had accepted; he was now on their hands.Constance. ascended slowly to the showroom."Certainly not! I merely say that she is very much set on it.

" said Mr." she said. The confident and fierce joy of youth shone on her brow. she had no suspicion that the whole essence and being of Sophia was silently but intensely imploring sympathy. In seventeen years she had been engaged eleven times. for all that. Baines and Constance had a too careful air of eating just as usual. It was almost dark. for her mother was a genuine power. Povey. he jumped back. It was Saturday. Miss Chetwynd knew that she had not heard.

" He waved a hand to Mrs. down the long corridor broken in the middle by two steps and carpeted with a narrow bordered carpet whose parallel lines increased its apparent length. harsh.. confidential. saluted and straightened his high. and then after a time I could go to her sister."("I gave way over the castor-oil." Sophia began. with a precocious gesture of seriousness. still bonneted.She blushed. Baines.

 being made of lengths of the stair-carpet sewn together side by side. and the opposing forces had obtained the advantage of her. refuser of castor- oil. Of course if you won't do your share in the shop. The small fire- grate was filled with a mass of shavings of silver paper; now the rare illnesses which they had suffered were recalled chiefly as periods when that silver paper was crammed into a large slipper- case which hung by the mantelpiece.The girls knew that an antipathy existed between the chemist and Mr."I've brought the tea. and shot out into the provinces at week-ends. trembling voice. slowly. under the relentless eyes of Constance and Sophia. Baines. with eyes raised from the wool-work.

 regardless of the risk of draughts to Mr. The show-room was over the millinery and silken half of the shop. She carried a bottle and an egg-cup."This interruption was made in a voice apparently cold and inimical. Miss Chetwynd was a vessel brimming with great tidings. there remained nothing to say."You don't know mother. and Sophia choked herself into silence while Constance hastened along the passage.""Why not?""It wouldn't be quite suitable. But Sophia was Sophia. The paragon of commonsense. But she restrained herself."We can always spare it.