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If the bar-rooms were all shut up, there would be another story to tell. Get us the Maine law, and there will be some chance for us." "Why don't you vote the temperance ticket?" asked Mr. Hargrove. "Why did I? you'd better ask," said Lyon. "I thought you voted against us." "Not I. Ain't quite so blind to my own interest as that.
When children lose faith in their mothers, God pity both! Did you learn from Hannah the character of the paper?" "How could I question a servant concerning my mother's secrets? I only learned that Mr. Hargrove had given to my mother a copy of that which was burned by the lightning." "In writing to her, did you mention the facts?" "I have not as yet.
Beside, it was on her account that my nephew went to destruction; and I was sure all the blame and suspicion would fall on her: it seemed so clear that she stole the paper. I knew Mr. Hargrove gave her a copy of it, and I only wanted to sell the paper itself to the old General in Europe because I was poor, and had not money enough to stop work.
A scheme, however, was maturing in Burt's busy brain that night, which he thought would be a master-stroke of policy. He was quite aware of the good impression that he had made on Miss Hargrove, and he determined that Amy's wishes should be carried out in a sufficient degree at least to prove to her that a city belle would not be wholly indifferent to his attentions.
Hargrove, the flowers in the garden, the smell of the carnations, the sound of the ring-doves in the vines, the moonlight shining so softly on his kind face and white hair and Oh! They walked the length of two squares before either spoke again. "I was not aware that you performed on the organ." "Mrs. Lindsay gave me lessons, and I used the cabinet organ." "Do you prefer it to the piano?"
Didn't you hear Mr. Hargrove last week reading from that curious book, in which so many queer things were told about transmigration, and how the soul of a musical child came from the nightingale, the sweetest of singers? And don't you recollect Mr.
Why such profound secrecy was necessary your poor mother will some day explain to you. Until then, be patient." "Thank you, Mrs. Lindsay. It does comfort me to know that Mr. Hargrove was the minister who married them. Of course it is no secret to you that my mother is an actress?
The bar, which had been closed all day, was now thrown open, and lighted; and in this room, where so much of evil had been originated, encouraged and consummated, a crowd of earnest-looking men were soon gathered. Among them I saw the fine person of Mr. Hargrove. Joe Morgan or rather, Mr. Morgan was also one of the number.
By the way, where is he? It's time we were off." "Oh, he's talking romantic nonsense to Miss Hargrove. He won't hurt himself. I wish I was as sure of you, and I wish I had more influence over you. I'm not such a very little sister, even if I don't know enough to talk to you as you would like;" and she left him abruptly. He mastered a powerful impulse to spring from his horse and call her back.
Amy sang, in clear soprano: "'The moon looks down on old Cro' Nest, She mellows the shades on his shaggy breast, And seems his huge gray form to throw In a silver cone on the wave below." "Imagine the cone and wave, please," said Miss Hargrove; and then, in an alto rich with her heart's deep feeling, she sang with Amy: "'Ouphe and goblin! imp and sprite! Elf of eve! and starry fay!
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