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Not merely the shops, but busy and stealthy fingers, would furnish the gifts. Webb had bought his present for Amy, but had also burned the midnight oil in the preparation of another a paper for a magazine, and it had been accepted.
When Miss Dasomma had been down some time, she went up to see why Amy was not making her appearance: one glance around her room satisfied her that she was gone. It caused her terrible anxiety.
"No sir, I will never disgrace you. I am as proud of our family as yourself. I am home day " The sentence trailed off into a few unintelligible words in which only "Mother" and "Amy" could be distinguished. And then, with a last look about the cabin, from eyes in which anguish and awful fear was pictured, he gasped and was gone.
How she envied Amy. Amy frankly acknowledged to being a coward, and poor Ruth wished that she herself did not have a reputation for courage to sustain. For certainly that sound was not the whisper of the wind in the boughs of the maple. It was in the room, apparently at the foot of the bed. A long silence followed Ruth's bravely mendacious assurance.
Laura was glad of the darkness, and her mother, who had a particular dislike to jokes of this sort, went on, 'If it were only ourselves I should not care, but there are so many who will fancy it caprice, or worse. 'The only comfort is, said Amy, 'that it is Charlie's gain. 'I hope they will not talk, said Mrs. Edmonstone. 'But Charlie will never hold his tongue.
Soon after that they came across the first sign of life, a farm with a creaking windmill busily at work, and a light showing wanly in an upper window of the house. "Some poor fellow is getting out of a nice, warm bed," soliloquised Amy. "How I pity him! Can't you see him shaking his fist at the alarm-clock and shivering as he gets into his panties?"
Her daddy is that old duffer who keeps the hardware store, and is so eminently respectable that you can't get near him unless you have a pedigree and a bank account. Amy is the only daughter, but she has a brother though who takes after the old man. The girl takes after herself I reckon."
Also, the boys in the permanent garrison will sing your praises to the few who have not already heard them, and of course we shall have to live up to their opinion of us." "Well, if just doing what we have been doing gives us such a reputation," said Amy soberly, "I guess it won't be hard to live up to it in the future." "Only," said Mrs.
"And I never saw boys who were so absolutely crazy about hot biscuits," sighed Amy. "If you gave them enough hot biscuits, they didn't seem to know or care whether they had anything else or not." "Yes, somebody was always stirring up biscuit dough when we were at Pine Island," agreed Grace, her eyes dreamy. "I think one of us should have invented a patent stirrer just in self-defense!"
On the whole, it was better as it was, although he was sorry for Amy, and would do all he could to make her happy, and some time, perhaps, she would remember, and tell him where the baby was buried, and he'd have it brought to Crompton, and put in the Crompton vault. As for Homer Smith, his carcase might rot in the desert of Arizona, or anywhere, for aught he cared.
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