The mother, Ekaterina Pavlovna, who at one time had been handsome, but now, asthmatic, depressed, vague, and over-feeble for her years, tried to entertain me with conversation about painting. Having heard from her daughter that I might come to Shelkovka, she had hurriedly recalled two or three of my landscapes which she had seen in exhibitions in Moscow, and now asked what I meant to express by them.

Silver here, my darling wife, insists on the services of a particular yacht upholsterer. - - - From the way he said the woman's metal name Quayle thought it was changed from a stodgier Alice or Bernice.

The modern woman is more outspoken than her be-ringletted grandmother would ever have dared to be;

The morning o'er the gilded grove Bright on the kindling landscape fell, I sought her where she oft did rove In want and sorrow's lonely cell;