"There must be a wedding or a funeral," I whispered, feeling more in the mood of the latter, but never dreaming how much those carriages meant to me.

As I went timidly into the room I found nearly every seat full, and was greeted with cordial applause.

My sister took a seat beside me.

My subject was "Spinster Authors of England." My hands trembled so visibly that I laid my manuscript on the table, but after getting in magnetic touch with those before me, I did not mind.
The reading occupied only one hour, and afterwards I was surrounded by New Hampshire women and New Yorkers who congratulated me warmly.

There were reporters sent from seven of the best daily papers, whom I found sharpening their pencils expectantly.