Super Trick or Treat System

At two o'clock, I went down to the breakfast room a little anxiously. I reappeared in that part of the house and aroused some interest. My introduction to Miss Fairlie is now at hand. Moreover, if the young lady's search for the mother's letter yielded the results she expected, then it is time to clear the mystery of white women.

When I entered the room, I found Miss Halcomb and an elderly lady sitting at the lunch table.

When I was introduced to her, this elderly lady proved to be Miss Fairlie’s former female teacher, Mrs. Wissi. Her lively companion briefly described Madam Wissi to me at the breakfast table. She had "all Basic virtues, and nothing.” I can only give some humble testimony to prove that Miss Holcomb’s portrayal of the old woman’s character is true. The lady looked very humane and feminine and amiable. The sleepy smile on his full and calm face exudes a peaceful life. Some of us spend our lives in a hurry, while others linger in our lives. Mrs. Weixi sat through life. Sit in the house morning and evening; sit in the garden on the unexpected window seat in the passage; when her friends try to take her out for a walk, she sits on a stool; sits before she does not see anything, Before talking about anything, before answering "yes" or "no" to the most common questions-always keep a quiet smile on your lips, keep your head empty gaze, and equally close-in every possible way In family situations, her hands and arms are both comfortable. A gentle, obedient, silent and harmless old lady who had no words, never had a chance to imply that she has been alive since birth. Nature has a lot to do in this world, and is committed to producing such a variety of coexisting works, so she must become too rushed and confused from time to time to distinguish between the different processes that she is doing simultaneously. From this perspective, I have been persuading me, and it has always been my personal persuasion that when my wife was born, she was obsessed with making cabbage, and this good lady was obsessed with vegetables in all of us.

"Now, Mrs. Vessy," said Miss Halcomb, looking smarter, sharper, and more reading than ever before, in stark contrast to the noble old lady next to her, "what would you eat? Cutlet?"

The wife crossed her hands on the edge of the table, smiled lightly, and said, "Yes, dear."

"What's the opposite of Mr. Hartwright? Boiled chicken, isn't it? I thought you prefer to cook chicken than meat patties, Mrs. Versey?"

The wife removed her hands from the edge of the table and put her hands on her lap. Nodded thoughtfully at the cooked chicken, and said, "Yes, dear."

"Okay, but what are you going to eat today? Can Mr. Hartwright give you some chicken? Or can I give you some schnitzel?"

The wife put a sunken hand back on the edge of the table again. Hesitantly hesitated and said, "My dear, please."

"Have mercy on me! It's a matter of your taste, my good lady, not mine. May you have both? And suppose you start with chicken because Mr. Hartwright seems to be anxious And be swallowed."

Mrs. Vesey put her other hand on the edge of the table. It darkened for a moment; I went out again next time; bowed obediently, and said, "Sir, please."

She must be a gentle, obedient and innocent old lady! But, for now, Mrs. Weixi is still enough.

For a long time, Miss Fairley showed no signs. We finished lunch; still she never showed up. The lady didn't escape at a glance. He noticed that I looked in the direction of the door from time to time.

She said: "I know you, Mr. Hartlet." "You want to know how the other student is doing. She has been downstairs with a headache; but she doesn't have enough appetite to join our lunch meeting. If you let me I’m responsible, I think I can guarantee to find her in the garden."

She picked up a parasol and lay on a chair near her, through a long window at the bottom of the room, leading to the lawn. There is almost no need to say that we left Mrs. Weissy, she is still sitting at the table, her numb hands are still on the edge of the table. Obviously, the rest of the afternoon is in this position.

As we crossed the lawn, Miss Halcomb looked at me greatly and shook her head.

She said: "Your mysterious adventure still stays in the midnight darkness that suits you. I have been reading my mother's letters all day, but I haven't found it yet. But don't be disappointed, Mr. Hartwright, this It's a curiosity; you have a woman for your ally; in this case, sooner or later there will be a certain success. This letter has not been exhausted. I have three bags left, you can rest assured that you can rely on me for the whole night All spent on them."

So, here, my expectations for the morning are still not fulfilled. Next, I began to wonder whether my introduction to the lady would disappoint the expectations I had formed for her since breakfast.

"Then how are you getting along with Mr. Fairley?" asked Miss Halcomb as we left the lawn and turned into bushes. "Is he particularly nervous about your answer this morning, sir, all you have to consider is the fact that I am on your face enough for me, he sees?. It is particularly nervous; and, because I am kind and I don't want to let you fall into the same situation again."

While she was talking, we turned into a path and walked to a beautiful wooden house, which was a miniature Swiss wooden house built of wood. When we climbed the door steps, a room in the summer house was occupied by a young lady. She stood at a rustic table, looking at the inland scenery presented in the gap in the woods, seeing the wilderness and hills, and unwittingly flipping through the leaves of a small sketchbook next to her. This is Miss Fairlie.

How can I describe her? How can I distinguish her from how I feel and everything that happened afterwards? How can I see her again when my eyes fell on her for the first time-she should see her eyes in these pages now?

Later, I took Laura Fili's watercolor painting in the position and posture where I first saw her, lying on the desk where I was writing. I looked at it. From the dark green-brown background of the summer house, the bright dawn suddenly struck, wearing a simple muslin dress, wearing a light and young figure, it was a light young figure, its pattern was Delicate wide alternating stripes of blue and white are formed. A scarf of the same material is tightly wrapped around her shoulders, a natural-colored straw hat, trimmed flat with a ribbon, matching the robe, covering her head, and then covering her upper body with a soft pearl shade Her face. Her hair is so light and light brown, without linen, but almost as light. Not golden and almost as shiny-it almost melts into the shadow of the hat here and there. It separated clearly and pulled back to her ears, and when it passed through her forehead, its lines naturally undulated. Eyebrows are darker than hair. The eyes are soft, clear, and royal blue. They are often sung by poets and rarely seen in real life. Colored cute eyes, big and gentle, cute eyes in the form of quiet thinking, but among everything in the deepest part, beautiful things are more beautiful than the most beautiful things, and they reside deeply in their deepest place. And through the pure and bright light shining all their expressions to a better world. They exude the softest and most vivid expression of the full face charm, thus concealing and transforming its small natural and artificial defects in other places, so it is difficult to estimate the relative advantages and disadvantages of other features. It is difficult to see that the lower part of the face is rubbed too finely towards the chin and cannot be completely and fairly separated from the upper part. No matter how abstract and perfect the nose is when evading the bending of the waterline, women are always hard and cruel, making mistakes at the other extreme and missing the ideal straightness; sweet and sensitive lips shrink slightly when smiling, causing They pulled up a little bit towards the cheek in a corner. You may notice these flaws in another woman.

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