Miss Nelly plants it still every summer." A lovely light shone in Gabriella's eyes, and Cousin Pussy watched it tenderly, while a smile hovered about the corners of her shrewd though still pretty mouth.
"It has been such a disappointment that Arthur hasn't done more in his profession," she said presently, "but, as I was saying to Mr.Wrenn only the other day, I have always felt that dear Gabriella was to blame for it." "The trouble with Arthur," observed Charley, awaking truculently from his doze, "is that he's got the wrong ideas.

When a man has the wrong ideas in these days, he might as well go out and hang himself." "Well, I don't know that I'd call his ideas wrong exactly," reasoned Cousin Jimmy, with the judicial manner befitting the best judge of tobacco in Virginia; "I shouldn't call them wrong, but they're out of date.

They belong to the last century." "I always say that dear Arthur is a perfect gentleman of the old school," remonstrated Mrs.Carr, meekly obstinate.

"There aren't many of them left now, so I tell myself regretfully whenever I see him." "And there'll be fewer than ever by the time you Suffragists get your rights," remarked Charley, with bitterness, while Mrs.Carr, incensed by the word, which she associated with various indelicacies, stared at him with an indignant expression.
"Charley, be careful what you say," nagged Jane acridly from her corner.
"Now that so many of our relatives have gone in for suffrage, you mustn't be intolerant." "I cannot help it, Jane.

I shall never knowingly bow to one even if she is related to me," announced Mrs.Carr more assertively than Gabriella would have believed possible.
"Well, for my part, Cousin Fanny, I can't feel that it hurts me to bow to anybody," said Pussy, with her unfailing kindness of heart.