"To take your letter to Mr.Engelman, mamma." Madame Fontaine looked at the letter--paused for a moment--and answered, "No, my dear; let the boy go.

It doesn't matter for the present." She turned to me, with an abrupt recovery of her customary manner.
"I am fortunately, for myself, a sanguine person," she resumed.

"I always did hope for the best; and (feeling the kind motive of what you have said to me) I shall hope for the best still.

Minna, my darling, Mr.David and I have been talking on dry subjects until we are tired.

Give us a little music." While her daughter obediently opened the piano, she looked at the flowers.