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Phoebe, Junior

Chapter 7 SHOPPING.

Word Count: 3003    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

be able to get home," the sisters said, and she did her best to smile; but to say that she was glad to leave London, with all its delights, the bright streets and the shop-windows, and t

ocks, no unpleasant baker, no hole in the carpet, no spoiled mutton-chops, had disturbed her repose. All these troubles, no doubt, were going on as usual at home, and Janey and the maid were struggling with them as best they could. Had Ursula been very high-minded and given up to her duty, no doubt she would have been too much moved by the thought of what her young sister might be enduring in her absence, to get the good of her holiday; but I fear this was not how she felt it. Janey, no doubt, would get through somehow; and it was very sweet to escape for ever so short a time, and have a real rest. Therefore, it must be allowed that, when Ursula went to her bed-room after this news arrived, she relieved herself by "a good cry." Two or three days longer, what difference could that have made to those children? But after her headache was relieved in this way, the cloud dispersed a little.

ve made all our purchases. Suppose you

oked, not without indignation, into Anne Dorset's mild eyes. "You know I have

ngs or not," she added, with a little sigh. "It runs through one's fingers. When one has something to show fo

es! If it was a necktie

they? One for Amy, and one for Janey. I

t of it is, they can't be made at home. Papa says, boys' clothes made at home are always spoiled, a

grove and Snelcher's! It was all she could do to extricate herself from a crowd of anxious officials, all eager to supply her with everything that heart could desire, w

nne. You are always so good to ever

ot help hearin

to forgive you,

w! He does not mean it; he never was brought up to

y anything, dear

orgive. Poor Clarence is heart-broken!" cried the poo

at we never think. Come and help us; we are choosing frocks for Ursula's sisters. She has two. What

another counter to take the charge of pleasing such a customer. Ursula could not but look upon the whole transaction with awe. Mrs. Copperhead was a very humble, timid woman, and Mr. Copperhead was not nice; but it was something to command the reverence of all the people in such a grand shop-a shop which Ursula by herself would scarc

things. It reminds me of the days when Clarence was little, when I took such pride in his dr

lanation, which, instead of quenching her ardour, brought it up instantly to boiling point. Her pale lit

e I should have had in dressing her. Hats too! I am sure they must want hats. Come, my dear, come and look at them." Ursula did not know what to do. A little pride and a great deal of shyness kept her back, but Mrs. Copperhead was too much in earnest to be crossed. She bought a couple of very smart little upper

to you. I could almost think that Clarence was little again, or that he had got a little sister, which was always my heart's desire

you," said Ursula, "you have

r. Whenever you want anything for yourself or your sister will you write to me? I am always in London except in autumn, and I should so like to do your commissions. People who live in London know how to get bargains, my d

ve an agent for her," said Soph

face faded out of

dren, and I can see that she will trust me-won't you, my dear? Must we say good-bye now? Couldn't I take you anywhere? Look at that big ca

the lonely little woman's pathetic looks. But the other ladies stood out. They stood by while poor Mrs. Copperhead got into the carriage and drove off, her pale reproachf

have hurt her feelings," said

rriage after yesterday? Not for the world! I can put

You see now, Ursula, don't you, how fine it is to marry a

Sophy's irony was lost upon her simple-minded cousin, and so indeed was Mrs. Copperhead's pathos. That she was very kind, and that she was not very happy, were both apparent, but Ursula did not connect the unhappiness with the fact that she was a rich man's wife. Mr. Copperhead certainly was not very nice; but when people got so old as that, they never were very happy, Ursula thought

ore so-for the external sights and sounds which flitted vaguely by her, disguised those dreams even from herself. Mrs. Copperhead had once been poorer than she was, a poor little governess. What if somewhere about, in some beautiful house, with just such a carriage at the door, a beautiful young hero should be waiting who would give all those dazzling delights to Ursula? Then what frocks she would buy, what toys, what ornaments! She would not stop at the girls, but drive to the best tailor's boldly, and bid him send down some one to take Johnnie's measure, and Robin's, and even Reginald's; and then she would go to the toy-shop, and to the bookseller, and I can't tell where besides; and finally drive down in the fairy chariot laden wit

lking earnestly about the children they expected next morning, and what was to be done with them, had no clue to Ursula's thoughts. They did not think much of them, one way or another, but took great care not to lose her from their side, and that she should not be frightened by the crowding, which, after all, was the great matter. And they were very glad to get back to the comparative quiet of Suffolk Street, and to take off their bonnets and take their cup of tea. But Ursula, for her part, was sorry when the walk was over. She had enjoyed it so much. It was half Regent Street and half Carlingford, with the pleasure of both mixed up toge

doubt that it was of a nature, without any aid from Soph

o

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