One day they were sitting at the table working on coloring books when Alex came home early.
The table was decorated with rare and beautiful plants and flowers.
On the table were plates, knives and forks, and dishes of bread, meat and fruits.
He was sitting at a table across and down from them.
She dressed and arrived in the kitchen to find everyone already at the table eating.
A long oak table graced the center of the room, its ten carved chairs at attention.
On the other table, round which many people were crowding, a tall well-fed man lay on his back with his head thrown back.
The table and chairs were made of a dark rich wood, and the tiles on the floor looked like polished bricks.
Helen's table manners are appalling.
She rested her chin on her palm, elbow on the table, and stared at him.
For a whole evening she will sit at the table writing whatever comes into her busy brain; and I seldom find any difficulty in reading what she has written.
He had the letter taken from his pocket and the table--on which stood a glass of lemonade and a spiral wax candle--moved close to the bed, and putting on his spectacles he began reading.
No, tell them to bring a small table out here, my dear boy.
For the most part, the facial expressions of those sitting around the table were sympathetic, but Dulce looked as if she was ready to break into tears.
Jonathan knocked a lamp off the table and it shattered.
She was stacking bowls on the table for ice cream and cake when lights turned into the drive.
He closed his book and placed it on the end table and rose lithely from the chair.
The lint he tucked back into his pocket, and the ring he tossed on the table in front of Adrienne.
Brandon retired to a table nearby and it was all Adrienne could do to keep her mind on the interview.
He led her to the restaurant and they took a table, ordering supper and exchanging stories.
Cynthia Turley was in the middle of cleaning his favorite table when he walked through the diner door.
She rested her elbows on the table and cupped her chin in her hands, staring out into the night.
Then he slipped quickly under the table and hid himself.
I read the letter at the supper-table, and Mrs. Keller exclaimed: "My, Miss Annie, Helen writes almost as well as that now!"
One man, perhaps, if he has got enough, will be satisfied to sit all day with his back to the fire and his belly to the table, by George!
I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, and obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable board.
"Won't you come over to the other table?" suggested Anna Pavlovna.
But won't you come to this other table? repeated Anna Pavlovna.
The prince again went to his bureau, glanced into it, fingered his papers, closed the bureau again, and sat down at the table to write to the governor.
When he had dismissed the generals Kutuzov sat a long time with his elbows on the table, thinking always of the same terrible question: When, when did the abandonment of Moscow become inevitable?
And in the middle was a rough table with benches around it instead of chairs.
They were just rising from the table when they heard a great noise in the street.
Princess Mary saw Dessalles' embarrassed and astonished look fixed on her father, noticed his silence, and was struck by the fact that her father had forgotten his son's letter on the drawing-room table; but she was not only afraid to speak of it and ask Dessalles the reason of his confusion and silence, but was afraid even to think about it.
(At the mention of the chiffonier and dressing table Berg involuntarily changed his tone to one of pleasure at his admirable domestic arrangements.)
But as soon as the man had left the room Pierre took up his hat which was lying on the table and went out of his study by the other door.
He sat down at the dusty writing table, and, having laid the manuscripts before him, opened them out, closed them, finally pushed them away, and resting his head on his hand sank into meditation.
He paused and then suddenly seeing the pistol on the table seized it with unexpected rapidity and ran out into the corridor.
He wrapped the bottle up to its neck in a table napkin and poured out wine for himself and for Pierre.
Ramballe emptied his too, again pressed Pierre's hand, and leaned his elbows on the table in a pensive attitude.
Señor Medena sat at the head of the long dining table, his three daughters on his left.
The man sitting at the other end of the table was introduced to them as Morino el capataz - their foreman, Morino.
Carmen glanced around the table, but everyone seemed to be more amused than disturbed... everyone but Señor Medena.
After they put all the presents on a table, Felipa finally spoke.
It was a good thing they didn't change after church, because everyone at the table was dressed as if going to church.
"I thought you might need these," she said, handing the rag to Carmen and setting the box of tissues on a small table beside her.
She methodically placed the children's magazine on the table beside the chair, avoiding his gaze.
Remembering Dulce's face at the table, she turned, frowning up at him.
He sat down in a chair and methodically placed the cup on the table, his gaze fixed to it.
Finally he sat the cup carefully on the table, avoiding her eyes when he spoke.
Destiny glanced up at Carmen from her elevated chair at the table and then her attention swung back to Alex.
She was putting plates on the table when the school bus dropped Jonathan off.
Carmen grabbed a tissue from the table next to the bed and wiped Destiny's nose.
As soon as they were settled at a table, Felipa lay out her plan.
Carmen grabbed a tissue from the table next to the bed and wiped Destiny's nose.
As soon as they were settled at a table, Felipa lay out her plan.
She was cleaning the coffee pot and Alex was reclining in a chair at the table, enjoying the last cup of coffee.
When Alex walked through the door, they were standing by the table, waiting on him.
When Alex returned to the table, he sat in the chair Carmen held for him.
She followed him to the table and sat opposite him, waiting for him to open the subject.
Alex reached across the table and put his hand over hers.
He set the tray down on the table and handed a steaming cup of coffee to Señor Medena.
Breakfast was on the table when she entered the dining room.
She was putting supper on the table when she glanced out the window and noticed Giddon riding Diablo back into the yard.
She said nothing, but when they entered the kitchen to find Len sitting at the table, his expression was wary.
Yancey put his glass down and stood, moving around the table to take her by the arm.
The next time she glanced at the table where she had seen the driver, no one was there.
Certainly placing the family picture face down on the coffee table had done nothing to ease her pain.
Chris and Donna eased away from the table, glancing apprehensively at Adrienne.
Whatever the case, she always made sure his table was ready when he arrived.
But now, good wanderers, your luncheon is on the table, so please sit down and eat as much as you like.
Instead of keeping still, so I could eat him comfortably, he trembled so with fear that he fell off the table into a big vase that was standing on the floor.
The table was spread and supper was ready.
It will build a table of all the words used by people like you who have reviewed those restaurants and will look for San Francisco restaurants described with the same words.
Innovating will become table stakes just to stay in business, and innovation will be used to lower prices, not to increase them.
Then she went all round the table to see who was there, and finding no one but me, she seemed bewildered.
I made her go through the motion of knocking the doll's head on the table and spelled to her: No, no, Helen is naughty.
Finally she got up from the table and went through the motion of picking seaweed and shells, and splashing in the water, holding up her skirts higher than was proper under the circumstances.
My furniture, part of which I made myself--and the rest cost me nothing of which I have not rendered an account--consisted of a bed, a table, a desk, three chairs, a looking-glass three inches in diameter, a pair of tongs and andirons, a kettle, a skillet, and a frying-pan, a dipper, a wash-bowl, two knives and forks, three plates, one cup, one spoon, a jug for oil, a jug for molasses, and a japanned lamp.
Every one has heard the story which has gone the rounds of New England, of a strong and beautiful bug which came out of the dry leaf of an old table of apple-tree wood, which had stood in a farmer's kitchen for sixty years, first in Connecticut, and afterward in Massachusetts--from an egg deposited in the living tree many years earlier still, as appeared by counting the annual layers beyond it; which was heard gnawing out for several weeks, hatched perchance by the heat of an urn.
Everything from the table napkins to the silver, china, and glass bore that imprint of newness found in the households of the newly married.
A bottle here, said Anatole, taking a glass from the table he went up to Pierre.
"Well, I suppose it is time we were at table?" said Marya Dmitrievna.
At one end of the table sat the countess with Marya Dmitrievna on her right and Anna Mikhaylovna on her left, the other lady visitors were farther down.
Midway down the long table on one side sat the grownup young people: Vera beside Berg, and Pierre beside Boris; and on the other side, the children, tutors, and governesses.
At the men's end of the table the talk grew more and more animated.
"What are you thumping the table for?" she demanded of the hussar, "and why are you exciting yourself?
The band again struck up, the count and countess kissed, and the guests, leaving their seats, went up to "congratulate" the countess, and reached across the table to clink glasses with the count, with the children, and with one another.
Yes, these verses Nicholas wrote himself and I copied some others, and she found them on my table and said she'd show them to Mamma, and that I was ungrateful, and that Mamma would never allow him to marry me, but that he'll marry Julie.
"And then of course my family has also to be considered," Prince Vasili went on, testily pushing away a little table without looking at her.
"Yes, yes, of course," interrupted Prince Vasili impatiently, rubbing his bald head and angrily pulling back toward him the little table that he had pushed away.
Around the table all who were at Count Bezukhov's house that night had gathered to fortify themselves.
All I know is that his real will is in his writing table, and this is a paper he has forgotten....
He always came to table under precisely the same conditions, and not only at the same hour but at the same minute.
The large table covered with books and plans, the tall glass-fronted bookcases with keys in the locks, the high desk for writing while standing up, on which lay an open exercise book, and the lathe with tools laid ready to hand and shavings scattered around--all indicated continuous, varied, and orderly activity.
After a few more turns of the lathe he removed his foot from the pedal, wiped his chisel, dropped it into a leather pouch attached to the lathe, and, approaching the table, summoned his daughter.
"Wait a bit, here's a letter for you," said the old man suddenly, taking a letter addressed in a woman's hand from a bag hanging above the table, onto which he threw it.
"The third, I said the third!" cried the prince abruptly, pushing the letter away, and leaning his elbows on the table he drew toward him the exercise book containing geometrical figures.
She sat down at her writing table, on which stood miniature portraits and which was littered with books and papers.
At the appointed hour the prince, powdered and shaven, entered the dining room.
The prince, who generally kept very strictly to social distinctions and rarely admitted even important government officials to his table, had unexpectedly selected Michael Ivanovich (who always went into a corner to blow his nose on his checked handkerchief) to illustrate the theory that all men are equals, and had more than once impressed on his daughter that Michael Ivanovich was "not a whit worse than you or I."
The head butler, napkin on arm, was scanning the setting of the table, making signs to the footmen, and anxiously glancing from the clock to the door by which the prince was to enter.
When they left the table she took her sister-in-law's arm and drew her into another room.
When Prince Andrew entered the study the old man in his old-age spectacles and white dressing gown, in which he received no one but his son, sat at the table writing.
Kutuzov and the Austrian member of the Hofkriegsrath were sitting at the table on which a plan was spread out.
He leaned his elbows on the table with his pen in his hand and, evidently glad of a chance to say quicker in words what he wanted to write, told Rostov the contents of his letter.
Lavrushka turned all the bedding over, looked under the bed and under the table, searched everywhere, and stood still in the middle of the room.
Having glanced through the dispatch he laid it on the table and looked at Prince Andrew, evidently considering something.
Prince Andrew suddenly exclaimed, clenching his small hand and striking the table with it, "and what luck the man has!"
Several officers, with flushed and weary faces, were sitting at the table eating and drinking.
"That is probably the work of Vinesse," said Pierre, mentioning a celebrated miniaturist, and he leaned over the table to take the snuffbox while trying to hear what was being said at the other table.
Prince Vasili was not having any supper: he went round the table in a merry mood, sitting down now by one, now by another, of the guests.
The wax candles burned brightly, the silver and crystal gleamed, so did the ladies' toilets and the gold and silver of the men's epaulets; servants in scarlet liveries moved round the table, the clatter of plates, knives, and glasses mingled with the animated hum of several conversations.
At one end of the table, the old chamberlain was heard assuring an old baroness that he loved her passionately, at which she laughed; at the other could be heard the story of the misfortunes of some Mary Viktorovna or other.
At the center of the table, Prince Vasili attracted everybody's attention.
"Don't be unkind," cried Anna Pavlovna from her end of the table holding up a threatening finger.
At the head of the table, where the honored guests sat, everyone seemed to be in high spirits and under the influence of a variety of exciting sensations.
Only Pierre and Helene sat silently side by side almost at the bottom of the table, a suppressed smile brightening both their faces, a smile that had nothing to do with Sergey Kuzmich--a smile of bashfulness at their own feelings.
The little princess was sitting at a small table, chattering with Masha, her maid.
Anatole, having taken off his overcoat, sat with arms akimbo before a table on a corner of which he smilingly and absent-mindedly fixed his large and handsome eyes.
Berg and Boris, having rested after yesterday's march, were sitting, clean and neatly dressed, at a round table in the clean quarters allotted to them, playing chess.
Rostov took the letter and, throwing the money on the sofa, put both arms on the table and began to read.
Prince Andrew was in and Boris was shown into a large hall probably formerly used for dancing, but in which five beds now stood, and furniture of various kinds: a table, chairs, and a clavichord.
One adjutant, nearest the door, was sitting at the table in a Persian dressing gown, writing.
"Since Prince Bagration is not coming, we may begin," said Weyrother, hurriedly rising from his seat and going up to the table on which an enormous map of the environs of Brunn was spread out.
"I'll kill you!" he shouted, and seizing the marble top of a table with a strength he had never before felt, he made a step toward her brandishing the slab.
Some twenty men were gathered round a table at which Dolokhov sat between two candles.
On the table was a pile of gold and paper money, and he was keeping the bank.
Rostov, leaning his head on both hands, sat at the table which was scrawled over with figures, wet with spilled wine, and littered with cards.
Such a little while ago I came to this table with the thought of winning a hundred rubles to buy that casket for Mamma's name day and then going home.
Nicholas went to her, kissed her hand, and sitting down silently at her table began to watch her hands arranging the cards.
Without undressing, he lay down on the leather sofa in front of a round table, put his big feet in their overboots on the table, and began to reflect.
When everything was ready, the stranger opened his eyes, moved to the table, filled a tumbler with tea for himself and one for the beardless old man to whom he passed it.
Pierre went nearer and saw that the lamp stood on a black table on which lay an open book.
After reading the first words of the Gospel: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God," Pierre went round the table and saw a large open box filled with something.
Round a long table covered with black sat some twelve men in garments like those he had already seen.
There were in the room a child's cot, two boxes, two armchairs, a table, a child's table, and the little chair on which Prince Andrew was sitting.
They rose from the table and sat down in the entrance porch which served as a veranda.
Old women's nonsense--old women's nonsense! he repeated, but still he patted Pierre affectionately on the shoulder, and then went up to the table where Prince Andrew, evidently not wishing to join in the conversation, was looking over the papers his father had brought from town.
One morning, between seven and eight, returning after a sleepless night, he sent for embers, changed his rain-soaked underclothes, said his prayers, drank tea, got warm, then tidied up the things on the table and in his own corner, and, his face glowing from exposure to the wind and with nothing on but his shirt, lay down on his back, putting his arms under his head.
I enter, and at the table... who do you think?
Who is it that's starving us? shouted Denisov, hitting the table with the fist of his newly bled arm so violently that the table nearly broke down and the tumblers on it jumped about.
As if you could come at a wrong time! said Boris, and he led him into the room where the supper table was laid and introduced him to his guests, explaining that he was not a civilian, but an hussar officer, and an old friend of his.
That way we shall be saying there is no God--nothing! shouted Nicholas, banging the table--very little to the point as it seemed to his listeners, but quite relevantly to the course of his own thoughts.
Prince Andrew entered a plain tidy room and saw at the table a man of forty with a long waist, a long closely cropped head, deep wrinkles, scowling brows above dull greenish-hazel eyes and an overhanging red nose.
The whole company were standing between two windows at a small table laid with hors-d'oeuvres.
Speranski, wearing a gray swallow-tail coat with a star on the breast, and evidently still the same waistcoat and high white stock he had worn at the meeting of the Council of State, stood at the table with a beaming countenance.
The men remained at table over their port--English fashion.
Having sat some time at table, Speranski corked a bottle of wine and, remarking, "Nowadays good wine rides in a carriage and pair," passed it to the servant and got up.
Everything was just as everybody always has it, especially so the general, who admired the apartment, patted Berg on the shoulder, and with parental authority superintended the setting out of the table for boston.
The old people sat with the old, the young with the young, and the hostess at the tea table, on which stood exactly the same kind of cakes in a silver cake basket as the Panins had at their party.
At the card table he happened to be directly facing Natasha, and was struck by a curious change that had come over her since the ball.
She was sitting by her sister at the tea table, and reluctantly, without looking at him, made some reply to Boris who sat down beside her.
Everything was similar: the ladies' subtle talk, the cards, the general raising his voice at the card table, and the samovar and the tea cakes; only one thing was lacking that he had always seen at the evening parties he wished to imitate.
Toward midnight, after he had left the countess' apartments, he was sitting upstairs in a shabby dressing gown, copying out the original transaction of the Scottish lodge of Freemasons at a table in his low room cloudy with tobacco smoke, when someone came in.
He was talking to the countess, and Natasha sat down beside a little chess table with Sonya, thereby inviting Prince Andrew to come too.
She went to the table, set down the tray, and with her plump white hands deftly took from it the bottles and various hors d'oeuvres and dishes and arranged them on the table.
Sonya sat in the drawing room at the round table, copying a design for embroidery.
Two governesses were sitting with the Vogels at a table, on which were plates of raisins, walnuts, and almonds.
The servants stood round the table--but Prince Andrew was not there and life was going on as before.
She sat down at the table and listened to the conversation between the elders and Nicholas, who had also come to the table.
Dimmler began to play; Natasha went on tiptoe noiselessly to the table, took up a candle, carried it out, and returned, seating herself quietly in her former place.
He comes in, just in the shape of a man, like an officer--comes in and sits down to table with her.
On Natasha's table stood two looking glasses which Dunyasha had prepared beforehand.
Marya Dmitrievna, who knew how the prince had received the Rostovs, pretended not to notice how upset Natasha was and jested resolutely and loudly at table with the count and the other guests.
At her table there were extra dishes at dinner, and the servants had vodka and roast goose or suckling pig.
After reading the letter Natasha sat down at the writing table to answer it.
Open on the table, beside her lay Anatole's letter.
Pierre took the letter Anatole handed him and, pushing aside a table that stood in his way, threw himself on the sofa.
Anatole sat at a table frowning and biting his lips.
He took the packet from the table and handed it to Pierre.
Balashev took out the packet containing the Emperor's letter and laid it on the table (made of a door with its hinges still hanging on it, laid across two barrels).
The principles laid down by me must be strictly adhered to, said he, drumming on the table with his bony fingers.
The chief magnates sat on high- backed chairs at a large table under the portrait of the Emperor, but most of the gentry were strolling about the room.
The crowd drew up to the large table, at which sat gray-haired or bald seventy-year-old magnates, uniformed and besashed almost all of whom Pierre had seen in their own homes with their buffoons, or playing boston at the clubs.
He took a pack of cards that lay on the table and began to lay them out for a game of patience.
"But perhaps that's my shirt on the table," he thought, "and that's my legs, and that is the door, but why is it always stretching and drawing itself out, and 'piti-piti-piti' and 'ti-ti' and 'piti-piti-piti'...?
Pierre rose, rubbed his eyes, and seeing the pistol with an engraved stock which Gerasim had replaced on the writing table, he remembered where he was and what lay before him that very day.
He had pictured each of those young ladies as almost all honest-hearted young men do, that is, as a possible wife, adapting her in his imagination to all the conditions of married life: a white dressing gown, his wife at the tea table, his wife's carriage, little ones, Mamma and Papa, their relations to her, and so on--and these pictures of the future had given him pleasure.
When the body, washed and dressed, lay in the coffin on a table, everyone came to take leave of him and they all wept.
In ten minutes the table was ready and a napkin spread on it.
On the table were vodka, a flask of rum, white bread, roast mutton, and salt.
How splendid! said he to himself when a cleanly laid table was moved up to him with savory beef tea, or when he lay down for the night on a soft clean bed, or when he remembered that the French had gone and that his wife was no more.
Pierre unfolded his cold table napkin and, resolving to break the silence, looked at Natasha and at Princess Mary.
By this time he had risen from the table and was pacing the room, Natasha following him with her eyes.
Having taken precautions against the general drunkenness to be expected on the morrow because it was a great saint's day, he returned to dinner, and without having time for a private talk with his wife sat down at the long table laid for twenty persons, at which the whole household had assembled.
At that table were his mother, his mother's old lady companion Belova, his wife, their three children with their governess and tutor, his wife's nephew with his tutor, Sonya, Denisov, Natasha, her three children, their governess, and old Michael Ivanovich, the late prince's architect, who was living on in retirement at Bald Hills.
When her husband took his place she concluded, from the rapid manner in which after taking up his table napkin he pushed back the tumbler and wineglass standing before him, that he was out of humor, as was sometimes the case when he came in to dinner straight from the farm--especially before the soup.
Thanks to Denisov the conversation at table soon became general and lively, and she did not talk to her husband.
When they left the table and went as usual to thank the old countess, Countess Mary held out her hand and kissed her husband, and asked him why he was angry with her.
All the grown-up members of the family were assembled near the round tea table at which Sonya presided beside the samovar.
At tea all sat in their accustomed places: Nicholas beside the stove at a small table where his tea was handed to him; Milka, the old gray borzoi bitch (daughter of the first Milka), with a quite gray face and large black eyes that seemed more prominent than ever, lay on the armchair beside him; Denisov, whose curly hair, mustache, and whiskers had turned half gray, sat beside countess Mary with his general's tunic unbuttoned; Pierre sat between his wife and the old countess.
Well, and what harm is there in that? and she rose (everybody else got up too) and with a severe expression sailed back to her table in the sitting room.
The men went into the study and little Nicholas Bolkonski followed them unnoticed by his uncle and sat down at the writing table in a shady corner by the window.
This evening he listened to Pierre in a sort of trance, and fancy--as we were going in to supper I looked and he had broken everything on my table to bits, and he told me of it himself at once!
She sat the pan on the table and sat down.
Everyone at the table was staring at them.
Candy spilled across the coffee table and a glass bowl was shoved in front of her mouth.
She preceded him into the house and swiftly burdened the table with lunch.
As they blended in with the rest of the dancers, she glanced back at the table where the man sat.
He slapped the magazine on a freshly polished end table and stood.
She glanced around, noting several objects covered with cloths, as well as a box that sat on a table beside the door.
Yancey inclined his head toward the table and the man's eyes followed, lighting up.
He set his plate on the table and dropped into the chair.
She rose from the table and retrieved her purse.
The envelope had a mind of its own, and it drew her back to the coffee table - demanded that she tear it open and read the answer.
Promptly at nine, she removed her apron and crossed to the table where Cade sat nursing his fifth cup of coffee.
She approached Cade's table hesitantly.
A small round table and two chairs were placed in a corner near the doorway to the family room, providing a view of the fireplace.
As she completed setting the table, the screen door squealed and Cade opened the door.
The door stood open and a table was set in the front room, with four chairs drawn up to it.
One of the chairs pushed back from the table, and this was so astonishing and mysterious that Dorothy was almost tempted to run away in fright.
The strangers took their seats at the table willingly enough, for they were all hungry and the platters were now heaped with good things to eat.
They heard a crunching, grinding sound, a loud snap, and the turn-table came to a stop with its broadest surface shutting off the path from which they had come.
The fact is that I left my little pet in my dressing-room lying asleep upon the table; and you must have stolen in without my knowing it.
He took ten gold pieces from his table and wrapped them in the little letter.
He looked at the fire on the hearth.
I found surprises, not in the stocking only, but on the table, on all the chairs, at the door, on the very window-sill; indeed, I could hardly walk without stumbling on a bit of Christmas wrapped up in tissue paper.
I received another paper and a table of signs by return mail, and I set to work to learn the notation.
Let him go and come freely, let him touch real things and combine his impressions for himself, instead of sitting indoors at a little round table, while a sweet-voiced teacher suggests that he build a stone wall with his wooden blocks, or make a rainbow out of strips of coloured paper, or plant straw trees in bead flower-pots.
At the dinner-table she was greatly disturbed because I didn't eat, and suggested that "Cook make tea for teacher."
"Helen is in wardrobe," "Mildred is in crib," "Box is on table," "Papa is on bed," are specimens of sentences constructed by her during the latter part of April.
I kept Homer's Iliad on my table through the summer, though I looked at his page only now and then.
It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy's pack, and my three-legged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories.
A bird sits on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and strawberry leaves are strewn about.
The little princess went round the table with quick, short, swaying steps, her workbag on her arm, and gaily spreading out her dress sat down on a sofa near the silver samovar, as if all she was doing was a pleasure to herself and to all around her.
The princess rested her bare round arm on a little table and considered a reply unnecessary.
The little princess had also left the tea table and followed Helene.
When Anna Mikhaylovna returned from Count Bezukhov's the money, all in clean notes, was lying ready under a handkerchief on the countess' little table, and Anna Mikhaylovna noticed that something was agitating her.
She placed the brush on the table and left the room.
We surprised our dear friends, however, for they did not expect us Saturday; but when the bell rung Miss Marrett guessed who was at the door, and Mrs. Hopkins jumped up from the breakfast table and ran to the door to meet us; she was indeed much astonished to see us.