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"If she's going to be a writer, she'll drop her dignified pose soon enough," predicted Elinor easily. "She'll be too much interested in other people and things to remember herself too vividly." "I reckon most of the nippiness in this tale is Nero's work—not mine," she said, smoothing the long folds of gray lansdown into shape with absent fingers. "You see, it was this way. Old Miss Fell, who lives in that big red brick house——" Judith pulled out of her embrace..
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"Good-morning, doctor," she said, as he replaced his hat; "I suppose you have come to see my mother." "Well, why not you and Alfred come along and make it a family party, if that is what suits Bill, the boss?" "Ask de great massa." One after another, the girls mounted the stand beside Elinor, and read the little verses, while the assembly listened, and even the model, decorously cloaked, came from her little room, and with her crocheting in hand sat smiling at the nonsense..
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