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قراءة كتاب We and Our Neighbors or, The Records of an Unfashionable Street

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‏اللغة: English
We and Our Neighbors
or, The Records of an Unfashionable Street

We and Our Neighbors or, The Records of an Unfashionable Street

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
الصفحة رقم: 3

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LI.— The Hour and the Woman 465 LII.— Eva's Consultations 469 LIII.— Wedding Presents 474 LIV.— Married and A' 478

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

I.— New Neighbors Frontispiece.
  "'Who can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister?' said a brisk little old lady, peeping through the window blinds."
PAGE
II.— Talking it Over 73
  "Come now, Puss, out with it. Why that anxious brow? What domestic catastrophe?"
III.— The Domestic Artist 131
  "A spray of ivy that was stretching towards the window had been drawn back and was forced to wreathe itself around a picture."
IV.— Wickedness, or Misery? 197
  "Bolton laid his hand on her shoulder, and, looking down on her, said: 'Poor child, have you no mother?'"
V.— Confidences 287
  "In due course followed an introduction to 'my wife,' whose photograph Mr. Selby wore dutifully in his coat-pocket."
VI.— Going to the Bad 327
  "The sweet-faced woman calls the attention of her husband. He frowns, whips up the horse, and is gone.... Bitterness possesses Maggie's soul.... Why not go to the bad?"
VII.— Skirmishing 341
  "'I like your work,' he said, 'better than you do mine.' 'I didn't say that I didn't like yours,' said Angie, coloring."
VIII.— A Midnight Caucus 400
  "'There, now he's off,' said Eva ... then, leaning back, she began taking out hair-pins and shaking down curls and untying ribbons as a preface to a wholly free conversation."

WE AND OUR NEIGHBORS.


CHAPTER I.

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET.

"Who can have taken the Ferguses' house, sister?" said a brisk little old lady, peeping through the window blinds. "It's taken! Just come here and look! There's a cart at the door."

"You don't say so!" said Miss Dorcas, her elder sister, flying across the room to the window blinds, behind which Mrs. Betsey sat discreetly ensconced with her knitting work. "Where? Jack, get down, sir!" This last remark was addressed to a rough-coated Dandie Dinmont terrier, who had been winking in a half doze on a cushion at Miss Dorcas's feet. On the first suggestion that there was something to be looked at across the street, Jack had ticked briskly across the room, and now stood on his hind legs on an old embroidered chair, peering through the slats as industriously as if his opinion had been requested. "Get down, sir!" persisted Miss Dorcas. But Jack only winked contumaciously at Mrs. Betsey, whom he justly considered in the light of an ally, planted his toe nails more firmly in the embroidered chair-bottom, and stuck his nose further between the slats, while Mrs. Betsey took up for him, as he knew she would.

"Do let the dog alone, Dorcas! He wants to see as much as anybody."

"Now, Betsey, how am I ever to teach Jack not to jump on these chairs if you will always take his part? Besides, next we shall know, he'll be barking through the window blinds," said Miss Dorcas.

Mrs. Betsey replied to the expostulation by making a sudden diversion of subject. "Oh, look, look!" she called, "that must be she," as a face with radiant, dark eyes, framed in an aureole of bright golden hair, appeared in the doorway of the house across the street. "She's a pretty creature, anyway—much prettier than poor dear Mrs. Fergus."

"Henderson, you say the name is?" said Miss Dorcas.

"Yes. Simons, the provision man at the corner, told me that the house had been bought by a young editor, or something of that sort, named Henderson—somebody that writes for the papers. He married Van Arsdel's daughter."

"What, the Van Arsdels that failed last spring? One of our mushroom New York aristocracy—up to-day and down to-morrow!" commented Miss Dorcas, with an air of superiority. "Poor things!"

"A very imprudent marriage, I don't doubt," sighed

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