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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"


"Why," exclaimed Constance, "here come the first communicants of St.
Joseph's parish! They must be just going home from Mass. How happy
they all are, and how pretty in their white dresses!"
"They do look lovely," assented Lillie, readily. "How could they help
it? And some of the dresses are nice, but surely you see, Connie, that
others are made of dreadfully common material, and the veils are coarse
cotton stuff."
"Well, I suppose they couldn't afford any better," returned Constance,
regretfully.
"I declare there's Annie Brogan, whose mother works for us!--don't you
know?" cried Lillie, darting toward a girl who had parted with several
others at a cross-street and was walking on alone.
As Constance did know, she hastened to greet her, and to vie with
Lillie in congratulating her. "O Annie, what a happy day for
you!"--"What a favored girl you are!"--"I almost envy you!"--"We have
three whole weeks to wait yet!" This is about what they said, again and
again, within the next few minutes; while Annie turned from one to the
other, with an added gentleness of manner, a smile upon her lips, and a
more thoughtful expression in her grey eyes.


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