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They will try perhaps, but you must always love me, my darling, as you do now; it must not be all in vain all that I have been striving for ah, don't cry there we won't talk any more now another time." There was a minute's silence in the darkening twilight; Madelon's face was hidden in her father's shoulder, as he lay there with his arm still round her and his eyes closed, faint and exhausted.

Then, besides, there were a great many of the common people of London that sympathized with the rioters, and wished to join them. "They are our friends," said they. "They are striving to obtain redress for grievances which we suffer as well as they. Their cause is our cause. So let us open the gates and let them come in."

Each man was striving to grasp the full significance of what he beheld. It was fire. It needed no second thought to convince them of that. But where what? It was away across the valley, beyond the further lip which rose in a long, low slope. It was to the left of Devil's Hill, but very little. For that, too, was dimly silhouetted, even at that distance. The Padre was the first to speak.

And so for days I wandered, finding a few of the berries here and there, often half maddened and stupefied by them, my head awhirl too with fever, alternately hoping and despairing, my sense of direction almost gone, striving, whenever possible, to work north in my lucid moments, but finding often by crossing my own spoor that I had been wandering in a vain circle.

Many persons confound reputation with Character, and believe themselves to be striving for the reality of the one, when the fantasy of the other alone stimulates their desires. Reputation is the opinion entertained of us by our fellow- beings, while Character is that which we really are.

As John R. White did not immediately appear in answer to the call, Maroney seemed, during the brief period of silence, to suddenly realize how critical was his position. His cheek blanched with fear. He seemed striving to speak, but not a word could he articulate.

"I had awaked," she said, in a low voice. "You were to me a stranger, and I feared you." "And at Westover?" "A stranger." "Here in Williamsburgh, when by dint of much striving I saw you, when I wrote to you, when at last you sent me that letter, that piteous and cruel letter, Audrey?" For one moment her dark eyes met his, then fell to her clasped hands. "A stranger," she said.

Somehow they soothed him, lessening the poignancy of his anguish, checking his wild rebellion, making him aware of a strangely comforting peace. As if God had spoken and stilled his inarticulate protest, the futile agony of his striving died down. He began to be conscious vaguely that somewhere within his reach there lay a way of escape.

He doeth all things right! His will be done!" "You discern something that is hidden from me," observed Donatello gloomily, yet striving with unwonted grasp to catch the analogies which so cheered his friend. "I see sunshine on one spot, and cloud in another, and no reason for it in either ease. The sun on you; the cloud on me! What comfort can I draw from this?"

Lincoln, not yet convinced of the danger and magnitude of the crisis, was endeavoring to persuade himself of Union majorities at the South, and to carry on a war that was half peace in the hope of a peace that would have been all war, while he was still enforcing the Fugitive Slave Law, under some theory that Secession, however it might absolve States from their obligations, could not escheat them of their claims under the Constitution, and that slaveholders in rebellion had alone among mortals the privilege of having their cake and eating it at the same time, the enemies of free government were striving to persuade the people that the war was an Abolition crusade.