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"I declare if I ain't a firm believer in fairies after this," she said with frank affection. "There isn't anything prettier nor sweeter in the whole ball, I'll warrant!" "Mean!" cried Jen, in a tone of conviction. "Why! that Etwald is mixed up in this business also!" On this special occasion, however, no ladies were present at the little dinner, and besides Jen and his two boys. Dr. Etwald was the only guest. About this man with the strange name there is something to be said..

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"Miss Jinny told me that Mr. Spicer had asked us all to tea at the Science and Arts Club," she said. "The Haldens are coming in for Easter and all the other holidays, and we're going to simply revel in delightful doings right here in the studio. It's a dream of goodly revelry, Norn, isn't it?" "It means more than that to me," replied Elinor. "It means work—glorious, big, beautiful work——" "I do, however," muttered Jen, divining that Dido had taken the usual route back to "The Wigwam." Mr. Henderson has been dead forty-two years. He only lived three months after he married Aunt Adeline, and her crêpe veil is over a yard long yet. Men are the dust under her feet, but she likes Dr. John to come over and sit with us, because she can consult with him about what Mr. Henderson really died of, and talk with him about the sad state of poor Mr. Carter's liver for a year before he died. I just go on rocking Billy and singing hymns to him in such a way that I can't hear the conversation. Mr. Carter's liver got on my nerves alive, and dead it does worse. But it hurts when the doctor has to take the little sleep-boy out of my arms to carry him home; though I like it when he says under his breath, "Thank you, Molly." Patricia shut her door with a snap and turned to her sister with a glowing face, sweeping her stray tendrils back with an eager gesture..