He had written from London, and it was many pages of wonderful things all flavoured with me. He told me about Miss Clinton and what good friends they were, and how much he hoped she would be in Hillsboro when he got here. He said that a great many of her dainty ways reminded him of his "own slip of a girl," especially the turn of her head like a "flower on its stem." At that I got right out of bed like a jack jumping out of a box and looked at myself in the mirror.,
"Oh, let me stay," urged Patricia. "You can read out loud, and I'll slip in bed here to keep warm. What part are you reading now?",
"Yes, I think he would. But what does all this tend to?".
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