She lay awake most of the night wondering if she could do it , and most sorrowfully concluded that it was utterly out of the question , no matter how she might pinch and contrive . Old Lady Lloyd worried quite absurdly over this , and it haunted her like a spectre until the next Sewing Circle day . It met at Mrs. Moore 's and Mrs. Moore was especially gracious to Old Lady Lloyd , and insisted on her taking the wicker rocker in the parlour . The Old Lady would rather have been in the sitting-room with the young girls , but she submitted for courtesy 's sake -- and she had her reward . Her chair was just behind the parlour door , and presently Janet Moore and Sylvia Gray came and sat on the stairs in the hall outside , where a cool breeze blew in through the maples before the front door . They were talking of their favourite poets . Janet , it appeared , adored Byron and Scott . Sylvia leaned to Tennyson and Browning . `` Do you know , '' said Sylvia softly , `` my father was a poet ? He published a little volume of verse once ; and , Janet , I 've never seen a copy of it , and oh , how I would love to ! It was published when he was at college -- just a small , private edition to give his friends . He never published any more -- poor father ! I think life disappointed him . But I have such a longing to see that little book of his verse . I have n't a scrap of his writings . If I had it would seem as if I possessed something of him -- of his heart , his soul , his inner life . He would be something more than a mere name to me . '' `` Did n't he have a copy of his own -- did n't your mother have one ? '' asked Janet . `` Mother had n't .
She died when I was born , you know , but Aunty says there was no copy XXXXX father 's poems among mother 's books .
behind for if like of on outside over than with