Explore "Selina" by George Madden Martin on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Mamma, who so rarely betrayed herself by an open admission of her real state of mind, sat by the window crying softly. Auntie, at her window, moved heavily as through the act to expend some of her ponderous energy.
"I've always felt there _must_ be something wrong with our way of managing, Lavinia? Do you suppose it would have worked better if we'd ever had a _plan_ to fit our expenses to, or made Robert agree as to just _what_ we might have to go on?"