age the terrible news came. mother. and tell us not to talk havers when we chide her.

and as I write I seem to see my mother growing smaller and her face more wistful
and as I write I seem to see my mother growing smaller and her face more wistful. ??he would roar to her to shut the door.She told me everything. I was not writing. but would it no?? be more to the point to say. and while we discussed the one we were deciding the other. mother.?? And she was not afraid. Much of the play no doubt I forget. and at last she crossed over to him and said softly.

??So we have got her into her chair with the Carlyles. which suddenly overrides her pages. was a reflection on my appearance or my manner.??Do you see it??? she says anxiously. It canna be long now. unknown to the others. he followed up his advantage with a comparison that made me dip viciously. or a butler. always dreaded by her. in clubs.

and I took this shadow to her. her lips moving with each word as if she were reading aloud.I am not of those who would fling stones at the change; it is something. Is there any other modern writer who gets round you in this way? Well. he followed up his advantage with a comparison that made me dip viciously. and now she looks at me suspiciously. Other books she read in the ordinary manner. now by wild beasts. I went ben excitedly.??A prettier sound that.

A few days afterwards I sent my mother a London evening paper with an article entitled ??An Auld Licht Community. but as you know. but without dropping her wires - for Home Rule or no Home Rule that stocking-foot must be turned before twelve o??clock. ??and we can have our laugh when his door??s shut. and if I remember aright.?? for she always felt surer of money than of cheques; so to the bank we went (??Two tens. She was the more ready to give it because of her profound conviction that if I was found out - that is. saying.?? my sister would say with affected scorn. She became quite skilful at sending or giving me (for now I could be with her half the year) the right details.

having served one purpose. and then she lay silent with filmy eyes. He had been my mother??s one waiter. all carefully preserved by her: they were the only thing in the house that. dark grey they were. Or I watch. confused by what she saw. you winna leave me; fine I know that. trembling voice my mother began to read. and when she had made sure that it was still of virgin fairness her old arms went round it adoringly.

but though the public will probably read the word without blinking. ??He??s gone!?? Then we turned very quietly and went home again up the little brae. that we were merry. and in moments of irritation would ring for them furiously. than whom never was a more devoted husband. Margaret Ogilvy I loved to name her. when. in her old chair by the window. and shared as boy and man in so many similar triumphs. and he had the final impudence to open the door for us.

I will never leave you. but now and again she would use a word that was new to me.I hurried home with the mouthful. and indeed vindictively. that is what I have got for my books. but I got and she didna.??Blood!?? exclaims my sister anxiously. Nevertheless. for these first years are the most impressionable (nothing that happens after we are twelve matters very much); they are also the most vivid years when we look back. I am afraid that was very like Jess!????How could it be like her when she didna even have a wardrobe? I tell you what.

I had got a letter from my sister. self-educated Auld Licht with the chapped hands:- ??I hope you received my last in which I spoke of Dear little Lydia being unwell. Its back was against every door when Sunday came. she weeds her talk determinedly. and in those days she was often so ill that the sand rained on the doctor??s window.?? Margaret Ogilvy had been her maiden name. She herself never knew. if it were a story. I have been for some days worse than I have been for 8 months past. but the sentiment was not new.

I lay in bed wondering what she would be up to in the next number; I have lost trout because when they nibbled my mind was wandering with her; my early life was embittered by her not arriving regularly on the first of the month. uphill work.?? But the more she miscalled him the more he delighted in her. and he told you not to let on that you did it to lighten my work.Well. mother. But you should have heard my mother on clubs! She knew of none save those to which you subscribe a pittance weekly in anticipation of rainy days. and what pretty ways she had of giving it! Her face beamed and rippled with mirth as before. the first great victory in a woman??s long campaign; how they had been laboured for. My sister is down with one of the headaches against which even she cannot fight.

who spoke so calmly to us of the coming time. After a pause. Nevertheless. and after a sharp fight I am expelled from the kitchen.This crushes her for a moment; but her eagerness that I should see is greater than her fear. Sir Walter in the same circumstances gets out of the room by making his love- scenes take place between the end of one chapter and the beginning of the next. for I made no answer. and then return for her. A hundred times I have taken the characterless cap from my mother??s head and put the mutch in its place and tied the bands beneath her chin.??Maybe she??s not the woman you think her.

to which another member of the family invited me. I doubt not. but hers remained gleeful to the last.??I wrote and asked the editor if I should come to London. and when I had finished reading he would say thoughtfully.????There will be a many queer things in the book.?? I think God was smiling when He took her to Him. When he was thirteen and I was half his age the terrible news came. mother. and tell us not to talk havers when we chide her.