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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The Rosary"

You understand why, now;
don't you? And yet, in a way, it is NOT like hers. Hers is deeper;
and she often speaks with a delicious kind of drawl, and uses heaps
of slang; and you are such a very proper little person; and possess
what the primers call 'perfectly correct diction.' What fun it would
be to hear you and Jane talk together! And yet--I don't know. I
should be on thorns, all the time."
"Why?"
"I should be so awfully afraid lest you should not like one another.
You see, YOU have really, in a way, been more to me than any one
else in the world; and SHE--well, she IS my world," said Garth,
simply. "And I should be so afraid lest she should not fully
appreciate you; and you should not quite understand her. She has a
sort of way of standing and looking people up and down, and, women
hate it; especially pretty fluffy little women. They feel she spots
all the things that come off."
"Nothing of mine comes off," murmured Nurse Rosemary, "excepting my
patient, when he will not stay on his chair.


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