She wasn't there, but Minnie, who is a little old woman, introduced me very prettily.

"This is Mamma's friend, Miss March." "Yes, and she's jolly and we like her lots," added Kitty, who is an 'enfant terrible'.
We both bowed, and then we laughed, for the prim introduction and the blunt addition were rather a comical contrast.
"Ah, yes, I hear these naughty ones go to vex you, Mees Marsch.

If so again, call at me and I come," he said, with a threatening frown that delighted the little wretches.
I promised I would, and he departed, but it seems as if I was doomed to see a good deal of him, for today as I passed his door on my way out, by accident I knocked against it with my umbrella.

It flew open, and there he stood in his dressing gown, with a big blue sock on one hand and a darning needle in the other.

He didn't seem at all ashamed of it, for when I explained and hurried on, he waved his hand, sock and all, saying in his loud, cheerful way...
"You haf a fine day to make your walk.