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She paused for one moment beside her cousin, without daring to trust her voice to speak; then she fled to the kitchen, and cast herself into Janey's arms, to cry as if her young heart were breaking. "Miss Allie, honey," Janey begged her; "what is it? Tell Janey what's de matter. Don' cry so, Miss Allie, don't." Allie was past heeding her words.
Carinthia pressed her lips on the cheek sensible to a hiss, and Henrietta pursued, in words liker to sobs: 'Anywhere, Cadiz, St. Jean de Luz, hospital work either, anywhere my husband likes, anything! I want to work, or I'll sit and rock the children. I'm awake at last. Janey, we're lambs to vultures with those men. I don't pretend I was the perfect fool. I thought myself so safe.
Her sisterly warmth surprised the woeful spotted beauty with a reflection that this martial Janey was after all a woman of feeling, one whom her husband, if he came to know it and the depth of it, the rich sound of it, would mourn in sackcloth to have lost.
That relentless force impelling an anecdotist to slaughter families for the amusement of dinner-tables, was brought home to Henrietta by her prospect of being a victim; and Livia reminding her of the excessive laughter at Rose Mackrell's anecdotes overnight, she bemoaned her having consented to go to those Gardens in mourning. 'How could Janey possibly have heard of the project to go?
"Vous allez perdre dix marks," remarked the schoolmistress, if incorrectly, perhaps not too severely. But perhaps it is not easy to say, off-hand, what word Miss Marlett ought to have employed for "marks." "Voici les lettres qui arrivent," whispered Janey to Margaret, as the post-bag was brought in and deposited before Miss Marlett, who opened it with a key and withdrew the contents.
That relentless force impelling an anecdotist to slaughter families for the amusement of dinner-tables, was brought home to Henrietta by her prospect of being a victim; and Livia reminding her of the excessive laughter at Rose Mackrell's anecdotes overnight, she bemoaned her having consented to go to those Gardens in mourning. 'How could Janey possibly have heard of the project to go?
Then bidding Aunt Janice a hasty good-night, tired out with the day's adventure, the Merediths trooped away to enjoy the great blessing of sleep and rest. Tell us a story, please tell us a story, Aunt Janice!" "A story, Janey? . . . . What shall it be about?" "About the old castle in the long ago," Beth hastened to beg, for she too, dearly loved the story hour.
'Not very often, father, was the murmured answer. 'Well, well; things'll soon be set right. I feel quite proud of you, Janey; I do, indeed. And I suppose you just keep house for him, eh? 'I go to work as well. 'What? You go to work? How's that, I wonder? 'Didn't Miss Peckover tell you? Joseph laughed.
He unbuttoned his overcoat and took out his bulging pocket-book. "Here we are! I reserved a first-class carriage to Cooktown. There it is 'Mr. and Mrs. John Hammond. I thought we might as well do ourselves comfortably, and we don't want other people butting in, do we? But if you'd like to stop here a bit longer ?" "Oh, no!" said Janey quickly. "Not for the world! The day after to-morrow, then.
"Yes," said Kathleen in a whisper, and she squeezed Susy's hand. It seemed to her that her soul and Susy's had met at that moment, and had saluted each other like comrades true. "But how was it you came, Janey? Didn't your little heart funk it altogether?" continued Kate. "I was so mad to come," said Janey. "I am shaking and trembling now like anything.
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