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Whitford has not come back?" said Clara to Crossjay. "No, Miss Middleton. Sir Willoughby has, and he's upstairs in his room dressing." "Have you seen Barclay?" "She has just gone into the laboratory. I told her Sir Willoughby wasn't there." "Tell me, Crossjay, had she a letter?" "She had something." "Run: say I am here; I want the letter, it is mine."
It was at least an unusual spectacle in Willoughby to see nearly the whole school insisting on performing a task which no one required of them; each boy not only doing it himself, but seeing that his neighbour did it too! Several of the small boys and a few lazy seniors protested, but they were coerced with most terrific threats.
Her father stood by her, laying gentle hand on her. "Yes, papa, I will come out to you," she replied to his apology for the rather heavy weight of his vocabulary, and smiled. "No, sir, I beg you will remain," said Willoughby. "I keep you frost-bound." Clara did not deny it. Willoughby emphatically did. Then which of them was the more lover-like? Dr.
His first idea was to look for that imagined North East Passage, in the search for which Willoughby had lost his life nearly five and twenty years before: and with this object in view he sailed some hundreds of miles further North than any explorers in the Pacific had hitherto gone.
Why, and she gave a little anxious laugh, 'from Clarice, of course. 'No. Mrs. Willoughby looked at him for a moment in silence. Then she drew back again. 'You told him? she asked with a quiet wonder. 'Yes, Fielding nodded. 'But I only told you, she said, 'because I wanted your advice. What made you tell him? There must have been some reason, some good reason, some necessity.
With hand on the butt of his gun, suspicious and watchful, yet with scarcely a faster beat to his heart, Keith straightened up, and began splashing his way through the mud down the street. He knew where Willoughby would be most likely found at this hour with cronies at the "Tenderfoot" and he meant to discover the boy, and make him confess to Hope the truth.
Vernon withstood the incitement to acquiesce, but he sparkled with his recognition of the fact. "You meant well, Willoughby." "I hope so, Vernon." "Only you have driven her away." "We must resign ourselves." "It won't affect me, for I'm off to-morrow." "You see, sir, the thanks I get." "Mr. Whitford," said Dr. Middleton, "You have a tower of strength in the lady's father."
"Oh, I know that face: I know that look," Lady Busshe affected to remark rallyingly: "it is not the first time I have seen it." Sir Willoughby smarted to his marrow. "We will rout these fancies of an overscrupulous generosity, my dear Lady Busshe." Her unwonted breach of delicacy in speaking publicly of her present, and the vulgar persistency of her sticking to the theme, very much perplexed him.
"The instantaneous difference when she comes near, any one might notice." "My love," he opened the iron gate into the garden, "you encourage the naughty little suspicion." "But it is a beautiful sight, Willoughby. I like to see you together. I like it as I like to see colours match." "Very well. There is no harm then. We shall often be together. I like my fair friend.
I was going to ask you, surely men witnessing a marked admiration for some one else will naturally be discouraged?" Sir Willoughby stiffened with sudden enlightenment. Though the word jealousy had not been spoken, the drift of her observations was clear. Smiling inwardly, he said, and the sentences were not enigmas to her: "Surely, too, young ladies . . . a little? Too far? But an old friendship!
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