heartedness, for all that. The difficulty always is to bring things
together."

"I suppose that is just what _people_ were made for."

"It will be one more family of precisely that sort whom nobody can
help, directly, and who scarcely know how to help themselves. The
hardest kind of cases."

"It's an awful spill-out, this time," Rodney said to Amy, as she
followed him, after her usual fashion, to the piazza, when dinner
was over. "And no mistake!"

Rodney had brought a cigar with him, but he had forgotten his match,
and he stood crumbling the end of it, frowning his brows together in
a way they were not often used to.

"Will they have to go away?" asked Amy.

"Out of that house? Of course. They'll be just tipped out of
everything."

"How dreadful it will be for Sylvie!"

"She won't stand round lamenting. I've seen her tipped out before.
Amy, I'll tell you what; you ought to stick by. Maybe she won't
want you, at first; but you ought to do it. Father,"--as Mr.
Sherrett came out with his evening paper to his cane reclining
chair,--"you'll go and see Mrs. Argenter, shall you not?"