Explore "The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a hot, tiresome journey back to Kentucky. Joyce, worn out with / all the hurried preparations of packing her mother and Norman off to the / mines, closing the Wigwam for the summer, and putting her own things in / order for a long absence, was glad to lean back in her seat with closed / eyes, and take no notice of her surroundings. But Mary travelled in the / same energetic way in which she killed snakes. Nothing escaped her. / Every passenger in the car, every sight along the way was an object of / interest. She sat up straight and eager, scarcely batting an eyelash, / for fear of missing something.
To her great relief the peeling process had been a short one, and thanks / to the rose balm, not a trace of a blister was left on her smooth skin / to remind her of her foolish little attempt to beautify herself in / secret. The first day she made no acquaintances, for she admired the / reserved way in which her pretty nineteen-year-old sister travelled, and / tried to imitate her, but after one day of elegant composure she longed / for a chance to drop into easy sociability with some of her neighbors. / They no longer seemed like strangers after she had travelled in their / company for twenty-four hours.