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"David says they're slushy," pursued Patricia, meditating. "But he's only a boy." Patricia heaved a deep sigh. "Well, I must say," she said with a triumphant look at Miss Jinny, "I do believe in first impressions and I'm glad I always liked Doris Leighton." "But what does she mean by it. Uncle Jen? Didn't you wish me to marry Isabella?".
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"Lands alive!" cried Miss Jinny, enjoying herself hugely in prospect. "I haven't the duds to do credit to such doings. Why, I'm all out of style, and you know it, Louise Patricia Kendall! You'll have me running into all sorts of extravagance, dyking out for your tea parties and such like fandangos." Patricia made a gesture of amused impatience. "You monkey, you aren't thinking of Miss Jinny's hand at all. Where did you get that stuffy word?" Poor Mr. Carter said when Billy cut his teeth that a neighbour's baby can be worse than your own. He didn't like children, and the baby's crying disturbed him, so many a night I walked Billy out in the garden until daylight, while Mr. Carter and Dr. John both slept. Always his little, warm, wilty body has comforted me for the emptiness of not having a little one of my own. And he's very congenial, too, for he's slim and flowery, pink and dimply, and as mannish as his father, in funny little flashes. "Think he'll do for that future helpmeet you're expecting to turn up any old day, Judy?" Patricia mischievously whispered back..
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