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Philippa, the fifteen-year-old daughter of Pedro, the head-farmer, had gone out from her father's cabin at dusk to fetch water from the little reservoir that had been constructed alongside Leap Frog River a short distance above the cabins. The pool was a scant two hundred yards from her home. It was a five minutes' walk there and back. Half-an-hour passed, and she had not returned.
Phil is dead and gone, and the whole matter rests between him and me." "You are defrauding him and you are defrauding yourself of the highest and best part of love, and what love should mean confidence and trust! Philippa, let me tell him. Let me tell him, and explain your pity which misled you and which grew into love for him." "Oh no, no!" cried the girl quickly. "It is out of the question.
"Perhaps," she admitted, "that is a point of view which I have not sufficiently considered." Helen pressed home her advantage. "I don't think you realise, Philippa," she said, "how madly in love with you the man is. In a perfectly ingenuous way, too. No one could help seeing it." "Then where does the unfairness come in?" Philippa asked. "It is within my power to give him all that he wants."
First, I reflected with solemn pride that Philippa was more than an honest woman; that she really was a baronet's lady! After we were married she should keep her title. Many people do. How well it would sound when we entered a room together Dr. South and Lady Errand! Yet, on second thoughts, would not this conjunction of names rather set people asking questions?
It not only brought him a wife; it brought him a home, society, recognition, and a connection with maritime knowledge and adventure that was of the greatest importance to him. Philippa Moniz Perestrello was the daughter of Bartolomeo Perestrello, who had been appointed hereditary governor of the island of Porto Santo on its colonisation by Prince Henry in 1425 and who had died there in 1457.
You are fearful, too, that the knowledge will be misused, that it will lead to sex play and experimentation. You don't know how to phrase the answer anyway. There are some things you just can't put into words! Let's see if one can't, and much more simply than you imagine. Your Philip, or Philippa, who has just learned that babies grow in their mothers, says: "I wonder what makes the babies start.
He is so taken aback that he drops Lippa's hand, and she, thoroughly frightened, rushes down the path into the unlighted part of the garden, and falls headlong into the arms of Jimmy; who, consumed with despair, has sought refuge in solitude. 'I er I beg your pardon, says Philippa, starting back, 'I I but sobs check her words.
"No wonder," said Guy. "For comfort hath another name, which is Christ. Who is a stranger to the One shall needs be a stranger to the other." "I have tried hard to make my salvation," responded Philippa more sadly; "but as yet I cannot do it." "Nor will you, though you could try a thousand years," answered Guy. "That is a manufacture beyond saints and angels, and how then shall you do it?"
But no one became really intimate with the carriers except Ranulph the troubadour, Lady Philippa, and Sir Gualtier Giffard, who loved them for her sake. The guests at the castle were all going to the wedding except Ranulph and the Norman knight.
"Do you know you are almost offensive, Philippa?" her husband said quietly. "I want to be," she retorted. "I should like you to feel that I am. In any case, this will probably be the last conversation I shall hold with you on the subject." "Well, thank God for that, anyway!" he observed, strolling to the chimneypiece and selecting a pipe from a rack. "I think you've said about enough."
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