Mrs Molesworth
"Not without Thorns"
Volume One—Chapter One.
Sweet Seventeen.
There a girl comes with brown locks curl’d,
My friend and we talk face to face;
Crying, “Oh, what a beautiful world!”
Crying, “Oh, what a happy place!”
The Bird.
La danse au piano est ou très-charmante ou très-ennuyeuse, selon le sort.
A foggy evening in early December. Fogs are quick to gather and slow to disperse in the heavily laden air surrounding an assemblage of tall chimneys; and the manufacturing town of Wareborough, low-lying and flat, seemed to have a special attraction for them. Unprepossessing at its best, Wareborough was peculiarly so at this season and in such weather; it would, indeed, have been difficult to choose a day on which it could have less favourably impressed a stranger than the one just drawing drearily to a close.
There was a good deal of confusion in the streets, for the fog greatly impeded the traffic.