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She fled back across the cold matting to the high-posted big bed and cuddled down solitary into its warmth again, tucking the counterpane under her chin and looking out from the pillows with eyes as fresh as flowers. Flowers in truth Gabriella's eyes were the closing and disclosing blossoms of a sweet nature.
At Gabriella's entrance she glanced up, and remarked cheerfully: "My feet were killing me. I just had to take off my shoes." "They do get dreadfully tired," assented Gabriella in the tone of sympathetic intimacy she had caught from the other girls.
As he now returned home across the mile or more of country, having satisfied himself as to the uninjured condition of the schoolhouse, which had a great deal to do with Gabriella's remaining in that neighborhood, he renewed his resolve to go to see her to-night, though it was only Friday. Had not the storm upset all regular laws and customs?
Saving for the future was one of the habits of Gabriella's frugal past which still clung to her. "That would go, too. If we ever come to ruin and heaven knows we've been on the brink of it before this Archibald would not keep back a penny. That's his way, and that's one of the reasons I spend all we have up to the very margin of his income."
After she had gone, adoringly wrapped up by Algernon, Patty turned to her mother with a little malicious grimace: "I know it's horrid to say she's dreadful, mamma, but she really is." "Don't, Patty, it isn't kind, and, besides, she's a friend of Gabriella's. What I can't understand," she added, "is how Bessie ever came out of Virginia, yet there were always a few like her.
The simple gift of wholesome laughter, often the best as often the only remedy for so many discomforts and absurdities in life this was perhaps to be accounted among her best psychological heirlooms. And this was only Friday, with Saturday and Sunday to follow three whole consecutive days of holiday! Gabriella's spirits invariably rose in a storm; her darkest days were her brightest.
Now, isn't it too funny for anything that I should have found it right here the very minute I came in?" As Gabriella's face flashed back from the mirror the fashionable figure sprang suddenly to life, and the voice, still fluting delightedly, exclaimed: "Why, Gabriella! Where on earth did you come from?"
Even her silver had gone first the quaint old service with the Bolton crest, which had belonged to her mother; then, one by one, the forks and spoons; and, last of all, Gabriella's silver mug, which was carried, wrapped in a shawl, to the shop of old Mr. Camberwell.
Fowler's, "happiness costs so little," floated through Gabriella's mind as she poured Miss Folly's coffee out of the tin coffee pot.
"I wish you could go easier now for a while," resumed the little seamstress, after a pause which she had filled with vague speculations about Gabriella's sentimental prospects. "I just hate like anything to see you wearing yourself out. Of course I'd like you to own part of the business, and I can't help thinkin' that the judge could get you the money as easy as not.
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