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Had McLean not read of maidens who worshipped men of more than twice their years even to the extent of "A love that was her doom?" Had he not read aloud to her only a fortnight before the story of Launcelot and the lily maid of Astolat? Poor fellow!
A fat old bachelor, with no near kin, his heart yearned over the two lads who had spent so long a period in his home, and he knew them, too, for what they were, each a fine flower of his own racial stock. They were to remain several days in Albany, and after dinner they visited Alexander McLean, the crusty teacher who had given them such a severe drilling in their books.
Young men draw fast and say many and bright things, for young men are wise, while they are young. "Now, it's just like this," Davis was saying to McLean, "Here we are, all three of us turned out into the world like a lot of little sparrows pitched out of the nest, and what are we going to do?
"Did you ever get a little card I left in your drawer one night while I was here with Mr. Hatton?" he asked. McLean looked up in eager interest. "A card? yes, but never dreamed it was from you. Indeed I thought I was told it came from an entirely different source, and it has puzzled me more than words can tell you."
If only he could be a real knight! He could not understand why the Angel had failed to come. She had wanted to see their tree felled. She would be too late if she did not arrive soon. He had told her it would be ready that morning, and she had said she surely would be there. Why, of all mornings, was she late on this? McLean had ridden to town.
MISSOURI COMPROMISE JOHN RANDOLPH'S JUBA MR. MACON HOLMES AND CRAWFORD MR. CLAY'S INFLUENCE JAMES BARBOUR PHILIP P. BARBOUR MR. PINKNEY MR. BEECHER, OF OHIO "CUCKOO, CUCKOO!" NATIONAL ROADS WILLIAM LOWNDES WILLIAM ROSCOE DUKE OF ARGYLE LOUIS McLEAN WHIG AND DEMOCRATIC PARTIES.
McLean wants to see you." She hesitated, looking up at him. "McLean? You look so grave, Peter. What is it?" "He will tell you. Nothing alarming." Peter gave McLean a minute alone after all, while he carried the tray to the kitchen. He had no desire to play watchdog over the girl, he told himself savagely; only to keep himself straight with her and to save her from McLean's impetuosity.
His sage-brush intimates were confident he would never have done it but for a rival. Racing the rival and beating him had swept Mr. McLean past his own intentions, and the marriage was an inadvertence. "He jest bumped into it before he could pull up," they explained; and this casualty, resulting from Mr. McLean's sporting blood, had entertained several hundred square miles of alkali.
Freckles shook his head at the proffer of a seat, and folding his arms, stood straight as the trees around him. He grew a shade whiter, but his eyes never faltered. "Freckles!" he said. "Good enough for everyday," laughed McLean, "but I scarcely can put 'Freckles' on the company's books. Tell me your name." "I haven't any name," replied the boy. "I don't understand," said McLean.
McLean, at Appomattox Court House, with Colonel Marshall, one of his staff officers, awaiting my arrival. The head of his column was occupying a hill, on a portion of which was an apple orchard, beyond a little valley which separated it from that on the crest of which Sheridan's forces were drawn up in line of battle to the south.
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