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At that memorable moment she felt her age, she looked her age, as she had never felt it or looked it yet. "Have I your ladyship's leave," said Mercy, respectfully, "to go to my room?" Lady Janet mutely granted the request. Mercy's last look, before she went out, was a look at Grace. "Are you satisfied now?" the grand gray eyes seemed to say, mournfully.
"Miss Graeme, my dear, do you ken what ails your sister? Why has this feverish wish to be away and at work come upon her so suddenly, if it is a question that I ought to ask?" "Janet, I cannot tell you. I do not know. I can but guess at it myself, and I may be all wrong. And I think, perhaps, the best help we can give her, is not to seem to see, as you said a little ago.
Sclater without his books would speedily have sunk into the mere shrewd farmer; Donal, never opening a book, would have followed theories and made verses to the end of his days. Every Saturday, as before, he went to see his father and mother. Janet kept fresh and lively, although age told on her, she said, more rapidly since Gibbie went away.
It was not that the Curlytops were bad that is, any worse than perhaps you children are sometimes, or, perhaps, some boys or girls you know of. They were just playful and full of life, and wanted to be doing something all the while. "Do you want to take Trouble with you?" asked Mrs. Martin, as Ted and Janet started away from camp, and down a woodland path. "Yes, we'll take him," said Janet.
I hope Andrew is not fretting more than might be expected." "Andrew! Andrew fretting! Not he! Not a minute! As soon as he knew she was a wife, he cast her out of his very thoughts. You don't catch Andrew Binnie putting a light-of-love lassie before a command of God." "I won't hear you talk of my niece of the mistress of Braelands in that kind of a way, Janet.
He hailed by name Italians, Greeks, Belgians, Syrians, and "French"; he hailed Janet, too, with respectful cheerfulness, taking off his hat. He possessed the rare, warm vitality that is irresistible.
If she broached the subject to Tom Abbott, to Judge Lawton, even in a roundabout way, they would suspect at once. Aileen and Janet and the other girls did not know enough. They would suspect also. But her head would burst if she didn't consult some one. She was too horribly alone. And after all she was still very young.
Janet was no more to think of her mother as living by herself, in the lonely cot in the glen, but farther up in another cottage, within sight of the door of Saughless. And Sandy was to go to the school a while yet and there was no fear but something would be found for him to do, either on the farm, or in the garden. And so his mother was to set her heart at rest about them.
But, with lawyerlike caution, he thought he would put off the committal as long as possible. If his heart had been in his attentions the caution would not have been worth much. Caution is a good breakwater against vanity, but it isn't worth much against the springtide of love, as John Harlow soon found out. For toward the end of the week he began to feel a warmer feeling for Miss Janet.
I could just discern the curve and roll of her famed thick brown hair in the happy shrug of her shoulder, and imagined the full stream of it as she leaned out of window to talk to us. Janet herself, unfastened the hall-door bolts.
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