"If it isn't one thing, it's another, but she wouldn't be satisfied with perfection.
Well, here we are.

There are the hydrangeas.

I hope you're pleased." "I declare, those waste papers have blown right back again on the grass, and I had them picked up the last thing before I left," said Jane in a tone of annoyance.
"Never mind the papers; Gabriella isn't looking for papers," returned Charley, while he helped Mrs.Carr out of the motor and up the steps.
"So here you are, mother, and the air didn't kill you." "I may have neuralgia to-morrow.

You never can tell," replied Mrs.Carr.
"I shouldn't worry about the papers, Jane.

Nobody can help the way they blow about.