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I never saw such a lot of folks." "Well, I'm sure I thought you liked folks," commented the man. "I do." Pollyanna frowned again and pondered. "But what's the use of such a lot of them if you don't know 'em? And Mrs. Carew wouldn't let me. She didn't know 'em herself. She said folks didn't, down there." There was a slight pause, then, with a sigh, Pollyanna resumed.
Then he looked again at Major Carew and observed the suggestion of a frown still on his face while he stood with the letter in his hand. "Heiresses are seemingly not much in your line, sir?" he suggested humorously. "You ... well, you don't quite look overjoyed!..." Carew in his quiet way had grown fond of the gay young trooper, and he showed no offence at the attitude of familiarity.
"For that matter, look at 'all these people' and see for yourself if you need to worry about them." And Pollyanna looked; and she saw: Over by one window, backs carefully turned, Jamie and Sadie Dean; over by another window, backs also carefully turned, Mrs. Carew and John Pendleton. Pollyanna smiled so adorably that Jimmy kissed her again.
The dogs trotted toward it and a woman came out as Stefan stopped his team. "I got a letter for you, Mis' Carew," he announced. "I got it dis morning at de post-office and bring it as I come along dis vay." He searched a pocket of his coat while the woman looked at Madge curiously. "Won't you come in and warm yourself a while?" she asked, civilly. "I can make you a hot cup of tea in a minute."
Who has not pictured to himself the weary months that must elapse before he once more regains his freedom and his friends? It is a genuine woe. Something of this, but tenfold in intensity of wretchedness, did Richard feel when he awoke for the first time a convicted felon. He had dreamed that Carew was dead, and left him heir of Crompton; his mother and he were there, and Harry as his wife.
It was stern again now, but she knew for a brief moment as he made the exclamation it had not been so, and for a reason she did not seek to fathom her heart was strangely glad. When Carew had started up into the Acropolis Hill an hour previously, he had not had the faintest intention of fulfilling his engagement and going in search of Meryl. On the contrary, he had gone there to avoid her.
Her eyes full of sudden tears, her lip shaking, she could only bow and bow again, and then, just as her smile threatened to become entirely eclipsed, she managed a husky "Thank you all so much!" and descended the steps rapidly, to slip into her chair between Barry and George Carew.
A few minutes after the letter had been read, she held a parley with me through the keyhole. "Mr. Martin Hyde. Are you going to shoot me?" "No, Miss Carew, though I think you deserve it." "You won't try to get away if I open the door?" "I mean to get away as soon as ever I get half a chance." "I've got three men with me at the door here." "Oh. Very well. But you just wait till I get a chance."
There were four watchers in the house that night. Downstairs, Mrs. Carew sat by the shaded lamp in her upright armchair. She was not writing, but had re-opened the large black Bible. Molly was courting sleep in vain, having resolutely blown out her candle. Sidney made no pretence. He was fully dressed, and seated at his rarely-used writing-table.
Will you change your terms?" "No; I am content to fight with my own weapon." Jennifer nodded. "So I told him." And then: "There was no surgeon to be had in town, Dr. Carew having gone with the Minute Men to join Mr. Rutherford. Tybee says 'tis scarce in accordance with the later rulings to fight without one."
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