“Because it is a question of me, not of you alone.”
“Dear me, you are in a way!”
“Mother is coming.”
“Is she? You had better tell her.”
Mother was very fond of Leslie.
“Well, sir,” she said, “why are you frowning?”
He broke into a laugh.
“Lettie is scolding me for kissing her when she was playing ‘Sleeping Beauty.’”
“The conceit of the boy, to play Prince!” said my mother.
“Oh, but it appears I was sadly out of character,” he said ruefully.