The girl, holding the puppy close, was looking at the little boy.

Something long beaten back seemed rushing on; and in her eyes was the consciousness of its having been long beaten back.
Something of which did not escape the astute Wayne the Worthy.

"Aunt Kate," he called excitedly, "Aunt Kate--Miss Ann's eyes go such a long way down!" "Worth, I'm not at all sure that it is the best of form for a grown-up young gentleman of six summers to be audibly estimating the fathomless depths of a young woman's eyes.

Note well the word audibly, Worthie." "They go farther down than yours, Aunt Kate." "'Um--yes; another remark better left with the inaudible." "It looks--it looks as if there was such a lot of cries in them! o--h--one's coming now!" "Worth," she called sharply, "come here.

You mustn't talk to Miss Ann about cries, dear.