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"I must not, and dare not, think of the hardship of my own position," he said; "I owe it to you to speak without reference to the future that may be in store for me. No man can be worthy of the sacrifice which your generous forgetfulness of yourself is willing to make. I respect you; I admire you; I thank you with my whole heart. Leave me to my fate, Mrs. Callender and let me go." He rose.

Callender that she would rather care for her daughter than for any one else. "Except the doctor, of course," she added. She was always pleased when she could contrive to mention the doctor; no topic of conversation brought her so many pleasurable emotions. Phillida became fond of her and whenever she went away longed for her return. Robert brought flowers every day in Mrs.

"She had always supposed that ministers and missionaries and their families expected presents. When she was a little girl her father used to send a whole hog to each minister in the village every fall when he killed his pigs. But it seemed Miss Callender and her mother held themselves above presents. Were they 'people of wealth'? That is her favorite phrase.

At that of Ellis Callender in the same year, the chief mourner wore in black only bonnet, gloves, ribbons, and handkerchief. Letters are in existence from Boston merchants to English agents rebuking the latter for sending mourning goods, such as crapes, "which are not worn." A newly born and fast-growing spirit of patriotic revolt gave added force to the reform.

You and Charley are just made for each other, though for my part I should prefer a young man something like Cousin Philip." Phillida was silent for a moment, and Mrs. Callender made a protesting gesture at the impulsive Agatha. "I don't think you ought to talk about such things when I'm so tired," said Phillida, struggling to maintain self-control. "Mr.

It may be poor and vain and worthless, but it is the only life I'm fit for. And yet I love you and you loved me. I suppose God makes men and women like that sometimes, and it is no use struggling. "One kiss, dear it is the last." John Storm went back to Victoria Square with a bright and joyful face and found Mrs. Callender waiting for him, grim as a judge.

"And you," she interposed, "after saving me at the risk of your own life, turned a deaf ear to my poor husband's entreaties, when he asked you to wait till I had recovered my senses." "Your poor husband? Surely, Mrs. Callender, he received no serious injury from the fire?" "The firemen rescued him under circumstances of peril," she answered, "and at his great age he sank under the shock.

"Well, you see, you spoiled it, an' I've got to git out of town as soon as I kin. Sis' Callender, dese hyeah white people is mighty slippery, and they might catch me. But I want to beg you to go on away from hyeah so's you won't be hyeah to testify if dey does. Hyeah's a hundred dollars of yo' money right down, and you leave hyeah to-morrer mornin' an' go erway as far as you kin git."

Say so at once it will serve me right." The stout watchman of the New Inn was calling midnight when Glory stole out to post her letter. It fell into the letter-box with a thud, and she crept back like a guilty thing. Next morning Mrs. Callender heard John Storm singing to himself before he left his bedroom, and she was standing at the bottom of the stairs when he came down three steps at a time.

I am such a curse, a dreadful curse, to this house." "No, no; you mustn't say that. Your sickness is a great misfortune to your family, but it is not your fault. It is a greater misfortune to you. Why should you pray to die? Why not pray to get well?" "That is too hard, Miss Callender. If now I had but a little while been sick. But I am so long. I can not ever get well.