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It must be ages before her league with Harry Musgrave could be concluded, and therefore let it be still, as it had been always, suspected, but not confessed unless she were over-urged by Harry's rival and her northern kinsfolk and friends. Then she would declare her mind, but not before. Lady Latimer asked no questions.

"You are offering me a good deal," he said, "I scarcely know why myself." "But you don't take my hand, Latimer," Baird said; and the words were spoken with a faint loss of colour. Latimer took it, flushing more darkly still. "What have I to offer in return?" he said. "I have nothing. You had better think again. I should only be a kind of shadow on your life."

If he was sorry, it was for her regret, but they soon began to talk of other things. They had agreed that if good luck came they would be glad, and if bad luck they would pass it lightly over. Desirous as Lady Latimer was to do Mr. Harry Musgrave a service, her good-will towards him ended there.

In 1516 More and Erasmus wished him to come and teach Greek to Fisher, Bishop of Rochester; but could not prevail with him. It would seem strange to-day for an Oxford scholar to be invited to become private tutor to the Chancellor of the sister University: he would probably shrink, as Latimer did, and find refuge in excuses.

Carlyle began to speak of the children she was to take charge of. "You are no doubt aware that they are not mine; Mrs. Latimer would tell you. They are the children of Mr. Carlyle's first wife." "And Mr. Carlyle's," interrupted Lady Isabel. What in the world made her put in that? She wondered herself the moment the words were out of her mouth.

He stopped and moved a step toward her, but as he did so, the girl, still without looking up, drew herself nearer to her father and shrank more closely into his arms; but the father's face was troubled and doubtful, and he regarded the younger man with a look of the most anxious scrutiny. Latimer did not regard this.

Upon further inquiry, I am led to believe that you are likely to be the person most active in the matter to which I am now about to direct your attention; and I regret much that circumstances, arising out of my own particular situation, prevent my communicating to you personally what I now apprise you of in this matter. 'Your friend, Mr. Darsie Latimer, is in a situation of considerable danger.

There are few very young people; several of the gentlemen converse with her, and though she is rather fearful at first, she soon feels at home and likes them better, she imagines, than the women, with one exception, and that is Mrs. Latimer. The two have a long talk about Quebec, its queer streets and quaint old churches, and Mr.

"You mean then," he said, "perhaps, that she is a married woman?" Latimer pressed his lips together at first as though he would not answer, and then raised his eyes coldly. "Perhaps," he said.

But of what may be called the Latimer tradition, the saner and more genuine Protestantism, I shall speak later. At the time even the Oxford Martyrs probably produced less pity and revulsion than the massacre in the flames of many more obscure enthusiasts, whose very ignorance and poverty made their cause seem more popular than it really was.