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But though Griselda's yellow hair fell down to her waist in glossy, rippling curls, that shone like molten gold; though Amanda's black eyes glittered like the stars in a midnight sky; though the dashing Georgina was more graceful than Diana, the gentle Lavinia more beautiful than Venus, Mr. Dunbar went among them without pleasure, and left them without regret.
She's going to Boston, and to Brewster, with Rose Freeman," said Amanda. "O-oh! So that's the trouble, is it?" said Amos. "Well, she'll come back, so don't cry," and he stepped past her and ran down toward the beach. At Mrs. Stoddard's Mrs. Cary was repeating Amanda's story. "I cannot understand it," said Mrs. Stoddard.
He saved that mean fellow's life and gets no thanks for it from him! After all Lyman's dirty tricks this takes the cake!" Amanda's eyes sparkled. "He I think Martin's wonderful!" she said, her lips trembling. "Yes," the mother agreed as she wiped her eyes with one corner of her gingham apron. "I'd rather my boy laid up in bed hurt like he is than have him like Lyman."
None of us really understands consciousnesses with their outsides all hulled off as John is doing with those seeds which he drops into the basin. Each one of those little seeds has within it a power which we do not understand. And that is the way with Miss Amanda's consciousness." "There," said the captain; "I agree with you. Nobody can object to that."
Amanda's bag upstairs was all neatly packed. She would need to unpack it again that night, but it was a comfort to her. She had scarcely spoken all day; her thin mouth had a set look. "Mandy's gettin' so homesick she can't speak," said Mrs. Babcock. "She can't hardly wait till to-morrow to start, can you, Mandy?" "No, I can't," replied Amanda. Mrs.
You may be sure, Mistress Cary, that I will not let it pass. Her father leaves her in my care when he is away, and perhaps I am too indulgent, for I love the child." It was an hour later when Anne came and peered in at the open door. Mrs. Cary had gone home. Mrs. Stoddard looked at the little girl, but not with her usual smile. "Where is Amanda's basket?" she asked sharply.
Some of the girls were giggling in the darkness as their men pressed close to them. Lantier was humming one of Mademoiselle Amanda's songs. Gervaise, with her head spinning from too much drink, hummed the refrain with him. It had been very warm at the music-hall and the two drinks she had had, along with all the smoke, had upset her stomach a bit.
Wast thou then so far in her confidence, and art now able to talk of her thus? Where is thine own heart, Mr. Scudamore? 'In thy bosom, lovely Dorothy. 'Thou mistakest. But mayhap thou dost imagine I picked it up that night thou didst lay it at mistress Amanda's feet in my lord's workshop in the keep?
"Amanda's had a hard time, I reckon," declared the captain, "and if I know aught of her parents she will remember this all her life, and will not be so ready to bear false witness against her neighbor." "I did not so much mind Amanda's slapping me," replied Anne soberly, "but I thought when Aunt Martha shut me up that 'twas because she no longer loved me."
Lord and a girl friend or two of Amanda's, the joy of return was pent up in the heart of the mother a joy which she, poor thing, would fain have sought to share with others had not delicacy of instinct and sense of shame forbade. She felt it to be indeed hard that she could not go among her neighbours and friends and say, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my child which was lost.
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