"I want to see how it looks," she went on, "when it's parted in the middle.

No! it looks better as you always wear it.

How handsome you are, Ovid! Don't you wish I was beautiful, too?
Everybody in the house loves you; and everybody is sorry you are going away.

I like Miss Minerva, I like everybody, for being so fond of my dear, dear hero.

Oh, what shall I do when day after day passes, and only takes you farther and farther away from me?
No! I won't cry.