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"I was about to tell Monsieur de Toqueville," put in Honora, wickedly, "that he must see your Institution as soon as possible, and the work your girls are doing." "Madame," said the Vicomte, after a scarcely perceptible pause, "I await my opportunity and your kindness." "I will take you to-morrow," said Mrs. Holt. At this instant a sound closely resembling a sneeze caused them to turn. Mr.
I may now add Sir Henry Holt and Prince Borgesi to my list. You forget, papa, we have lived out of the world." Lord Earle remembered with pleasure that it was true. "You will soon be in the midst of a new world," he said, "and before you enter society I thought it better to give you this warning.
Clifton Holt was at home again, but no one, not even Miss Elizabeth, could have anticipated that he would be almost the first one in Gershom to put the minister for the moment at his ease.
It was gall to him to have to think that the world of Exeter should believe that Cecilia Holt had changed her mind, and had sent him about his business. If the world of Exeter would say that he had ill-used the girl, and had broken off the engagement for mere fancy, as she had done, that would be much more endurable. He could not say that such was the case.
"The confession isn't necessary," she replied. "It's written all over you. You're the type of successful man who gets what he wants. I don't mean to say that you are incapable of kindly instincts." And her eye twinkled a little. "I'm very grateful for that concession, at any rate," he declared. "There might be some hope for you if you fell into the hands of a good woman," said Mrs. Holt.
He was, an errand boy in the bank then, and Uncle Tom took an interest in him, and now he is a lawyer. A very good one, I believe." "I have a great respect for any man who makes his own way in life," said Mrs. Holt. "And since he is such an old friend, my dear, you must ask him to spend the night." "Oh, thank you, Mrs. Bolt," Honora answered.
"He'd lost his wind before he got here." "He ain't lost his nerve," said a negro porter, craning his neck in lively interest. "He's lettin' hisself go lak a Derby-winner on de home stretch!" "Has he give up?" asked the gate-keeper, turning aside to stamp a ticket. "Not him. He's bound to ketch dat train ef it busts a hamstring. He's done got holt de rear platform! He's pullin' hisself up! There!
Holt?" she asked with an icy little laugh. "Yes," he answered rather unexpectedly. "And some day, if the right opportunity comes, I am going to kill a certain man the man who murdered my father." She gave a little gasp of horror. "Your father was murdered " "Indirectly yes. It wasn't done with knife or gun, Miss Standish. Money was the weapon. Somebody's money.
He give Smiley a look, as much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog that hadn't no hind legs for him to take holt of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died.
One place was the same to them as another, and it was necessary that they should at any rate exist until the term had expired for which they had let their house. Mrs. Holt had I think enjoyed her life. She had been made more of than at home, and had been happy amidst the excitement. But with Cecilia it had been for many months as though all things had been made of leather and prunello.
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