Explore "Penelope's Progress" by Kate Douglas Wiggin on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Pale and wan was she when Glenlogie gaed ben, / But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat doun. " / _Glenlogie_.
Just here the front door banged, and a manly step sounded on the stair. Francesca sat up straight in a big chair, and dried her eyes hastily with her poor little wet ball of a handkerchief; for she knows that Willie is a privileged visitor in my studio. The door opened (it was ajar), and Ronald Macdonald strode into the room. I hope I may never have the same sense of nothingness again! To be young, pleasing, gifted, and to be regarded no more than a fly upon the wall, is death to one's self-respect.