When I'm dressed in red I always feel ever so much cleverer than in any other colour.

Thoughts just crowd into my brain one after the other.

Oh, you darling dress--you dear, sheeny, red-rosy, glistening, silky thing!" She flung it over her shoulder and danced around the kitchen.
"Don't be silly, Sara," said Aunt Janet, a little stimy.

She was a good soul, that Aunt Janet, and had a kind, loving heart in her ample bosom.
But I fancy there were times when she thought it rather hard that the daughter of a roving adventurer--as she considered him--like Blair Stanley should disport herself in silk dresses, while her own daughters must go clad in gingham and muslin--for those were the days when a feminine creature got one silk dress in her lifetime, and seldom more than one.
The Story Girl also got a present from the Awkward Man--a little, shabby, worn volume with a great many marks on the leaves.
"Why, it isn't new--it's an old book!" exclaimed Felicity.

"I didn't think the Awkward Man was mean, whatever else he was." "Oh, you don't understand, Felicity," said the Story Girl patiently.
"And I don't suppose I can make you understand.