Sublime

Susan Cornelia Clarke Warren,

Mrs. Thorpe was a widow, and not a very rich one; she was a good-humoured, well-meaning woman, and a very indulgent mother. Her eldest daughter had great personal beauty, and the younger ones, by pretending to be as handsome as their sister, imitating her air, and dressing in the same style, did very well.

“I was planning to hyphenate?” “Winthrop-Woodcock is no better, babe.”

Cowper.”

A youth passed in solitude, my best years spent under your gentle and feminine fosterage, has so refined the groundwork of my character that I cannot overcome an intense distaste to the usual brutality exercised on board ship: I have never believed it to be necessary, and when I heard of a mariner equally noted for his kindliness of heart and the r

“Of course. So is Julie. Most of the Proctor women went to Miss Lyon’s seminary—or Mount Holyoke if you prefer,” Aunt Gwyneth replied. “They say Mary Lyon got her idea for a women’s college when she was here, serving as the assistant principal of the Ipswich Female Seminary.”

As young ladies went, Miss Abigail Pelham was everything that made Izzy despair. From the moment the vicar’s daughter had walked—nay, floated—into the great hall, Izzy had known they were creatures of different breeds.