If I see someone else blissfully idle it has a bad effect upon me." "Don't worry, I brought my work.

I am still in the throes of that lunch cloth I'm embroidering for Miriam.

I've a lot to do to it yet before it's finished, so I can't afford to be idle, either." Repairing to the summer house, the three women fell to work with commendable energy on their self-imposed tasks.

It was a glorious midsummer morning and the picturesque pagoda at the foot of the garden proved an ideal retreat.

Despite her sturdy declaration that she could not afford to be idle, more than once Grace's embroidery dropped from her hands as her gray eyes dreamily drank in the beauty of the riotously-blooming garden of old-fashioned flowers, the close-clipped, tree-decked lawn and the thousand and one details that made her childhood's home seem daily dearer now that she was so soon to leave it.
"Wake up, Grace," playfully admonished her mother, her eyes chancing to rest on her daughter's rapt face.