The "waif" of Miss Broughton's story is no shivering and starving urchin of the streets, but a beautifully gowned, bewitching girl of nearly eighteen Summers -- a waif none the less, in that nothing save grudging hospitalities stand between her and homeless destitution. She has an inheritance of "drink on both sides, immorality on both sides, selfishness on both sides, extravagance and folly on both sides," as summed up by a stern benefactress. --New York Times, Review of Books, November 11, 1905
wonder was expressed with apparently such perfect good faith, and such deferential asking for light, that Felicity-- never very hard-hearted, and possessed, in this case, by some slight inward compunction--abandoned her judicial attitude.
"Between ourselves," she said, in a confidential tone, "there is very little that the jeune fille of to-day does not say; but Camilla is not of to-day."
"And is he--Mr. Tancred--not of to-day either?"
Felicity thought a moment. "Edward? No, Edward is not of to- day either. Edward is of no particular day; if anything, he has strayed out of the Middle Ages."
The phrase, as applied to the person in question, had no particular meaning; but Mrs. Glanville admired her brother, and it sounded picturesque.
"We shall make an odd jumble of periods between us!"--still more hopelessly than before. "Oh"--with a sudden burst of clinging affection--"oh, how I wish that Mr. Glanville had allowed you to keep me permanently, as you were so dear and
I didn't really like this book all that much.