"Her and Christine had a kind of a spat, and she was goun' to leave, but here only the other day, Christine offered to make it up with her, and now they're as thick as thieves.

Well, I reckon we couldn't very well 'a' got along without her.
She's about the only one that speaks French in this family." Mrs.March's eyes still dwelt upon Christine's face; it was full of a furtive wildness.

She seemed to be keeping a watch to prevent herself from looking as if she were looking for some one.

"Do you know," Mrs.March said to her husband as they jingled along homeward in the Christopher Street bob-tail car, "I thought she was in love with that detestable Mr.Beaton of yours at one time; and that he was amusing himself with her." "I can bear a good deal, Isabel," said March, "but I wish you wouldn't attribute Beaton to me.

He's the invention of that Mr.Fulkerson of yours." "Well, at any rate, I hope, now, you'll both get rid of him, in the reforms you're going to carry out." These reforms were for a greater economy in the management of 'Every Other Week;' but in their very nature they could not include the suppression of Beaton.