I used to sit on a foot-stool at godmother's feet, so unutterably happy, that I would have to put out my hand to feel her dress.

I was so afraid that she might vanish--that everything was too lovely to be real.
"And now, to think," she added, turning to Mrs.Sherman and affectionately laying a hand on each shoulder, "it's lasted all this time, till I have grown so tall that I could pick you up and carry you off, little godmother.

I am going to do it some day soon, lift you up bodily and put you into a story that I have begun to write.

It will be my best work, because it is what I have lived." "You'd better live awhile longer," laughed Mrs.Sherman, "before you begin to settle what your best work will be.

Think how the shy little Elizabeth of twelve has blossomed into the stately Elizabeth of eighteen, and think what possibilities are still ahead of you in the next six years." "When mothah and Betty begin to compliment each othah," remarked Lloyd, seating herself on the arm of the old Colonel's chair, "they are lost to all else in the world.