"I feel Mondayish--do you know what I mean, Herrick ?" "I can guess.

It is a purely clerical term.

You have taken it out of yourself, and then you feel a sort of reaction--or rather, to speak more correctly, a sort of depression;" but as he spoke, he realised for the first time the truth of Elizabeth's assertion that Mr.Carlyon was not strong.
Elizabeth had never looked better in Malcolm's opinion than she did that afternoon; if he had not admired her before, he must have owned then that she was a distinguished-looking woman.
She wore a gray dress of some soft material, which Malcolm, who was rather a connoisseur on feminine attire, decided in his own mind was a Paris gown,--strange to say, he was right,--and the black Gainsborough hat and feathers suited her exactly.

It was evident Mr.Carlyon agreed with him, for Malcolm saw him once looking at her intently under his hand.
A little while afterwards Malcolm, who was too hot to play any more, strolled off by himself down one of the woodland paths to get cool, but to his chagrin he heard voices which told him the speakers were parallel with him, and the next minute he heard Tina Ross say pettishly-- "Did you ever see any one so ridiculous as Elizabeth Templeton; just fancy wearing her Paris gown at a trumpery little home affair like this! Talk of coquetry," in a disgusted voice, "do you suppose she did not know what she was doing when she pinned those La France roses in her dress! It is not as though she were our age; she is thirty--thirty; why, that is quite an old maid!" "How can you be so absurd, Tiny ?" It was Nora Brent who spoke.

"Fancy calling Miss Elizabeth Templeton an old maid.