I wanted to get up something pretty for her.

I think, at this time of the year, lawn teas are a little variety." "Oh, she'll like it of course!" said John, with some sinking of heart about the Sunday-school books.
There were so many pressing to shake hands with John, and congratulate him, so many histories to tell, so many cases presented for consultation, that it was quite late before they got away; and tea had been waiting for them more than an hour when they returned.
Lillie looked pensive, and had that indescribable air of patient martyrdom which some women know how to make so very effective.

Lillie had good general knowledge of the science of martyrdom,--a little spice and flavor of it had been gently infused at times into her demeanor ever since she had been at Springdale.

She could do the uncomplaining sufferer with the happiest effect.

She contrived to insinuate at times how she didn't complain,--how dull and slow she found her life, and yet how she endeavored to be cheerful.
"I know," she said to John when they were by themselves, "that you and Grace both think I'm a horrid creature." "Why, no, dearest; indeed we don't." "But you do, though; oh, I feel it! The fact is, John, I haven't a particle of constitution; and, if I should try to go on as Grace does, it would kill me in a month.